#rare non-joyful content from me

[milk-sharks]

bad mood bad mood

#rare non-joyful content from me #poor thing #my art #starscream #transformers #maccadam

[angelofthenight]

Closer To God Pt.1

(John Doe x Fem!Reader) Part 2

Warnings: Yandere, Innocent!Reader, Dark themes, Language (+ use of cvnt and c0ck), Religious themes/mentions, Sexual themes/context, Sexual sadism, Stalking, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Obsession, Murder/Torture, Ignoring your instincts, Violence/Blood/Gore, Unwanted/Non-Con touching, Kidnapping

Word Count: 5.6k

( A/N: I literally hate Kevin Spacey sm but I love John Doe as a character and thought he would be a terrifying yet interesting yandere )

~

“You eating lunch today, John?”

John Doe looked up from his paperwork to see your head peeking over the cubicle with a soft smile planted on your delicate lips.

“I’m not sure yet.” He answered simply.

You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m going to pick up some pierogies from that new diner down the road. Want me to bring you anything?” You asked kindly, the gentle light in your eyes making his steady heart rate skip multiple beats.

You always had that effect on him, from waking him up on his most tired days to warming his desolated chest like a burst of fire in a freezing cabin stuck in the middle of a harsh winter. It still was so strange to him.

From the first moment he laid eyes on you on the subway train, something changed in him. There was just something about you. And he had no idea what. At first, he thought the reason why you stood out to him so much was perhaps because you were something that needed to be disposed of, that God was signaling that you were the most sinful of all.

So he began to stalk you, to follow you through every street and into every building, to peek through any crack into your home. He tried to pinpoint your sins. But he couldn’t find any.

You were too humble and shy to be prideful. You were too generous to be greedy. You had too much abstinence to be gluttonous, too much perseverance to be a sloth. You were too content and grateful and happy with your life for envy. You were a naturally joyful person, rarely ever getting wrathful and having lots of self control. And as far as John could see, you never seeked out sex. Instead, you kept your lust to yourself and your own hand. Those were the nights John felt the need to stay and watch you a little longer.

He almost didn’t believe it. In this shitty, soul-draining city how could someone like you live so wholesomely. John was a natural pessimist, he almost didn’t accept that you were actually a genuinely good person and that behind closed doors you never revealed any vile part of yourself. If he judged you on your worst day it would probably just be you honking at someone in traffic or not thanking your coffee barista on a bad morning. Your actions in life could be mistaken as truly biblical.

It was as if you were the embodiment of the seven heavenly virtues, the opposite of the seven deadly sins. You weren’t human, you couldn’t have been. There was a sinner in everyone. But not you.

You were an angel. Divinity personified, goodness materialized, the incarnation of sanctity, the epitome of grace, a model of holiness, the essence of purity; a blessed being. An earthbound seraph trapped within the confinement of a human body. A very, very lovely body.

That was the reason why you had caught his eye so easily on that subway train that one gloomy, rainy morning. It was as if you were radiating a golden light off of you, rays of your ethereal aura shooting through his barren chest making him… feel things. Things that were foreign to him. Things that seemed to act up most when you were around, or when you simply just visited his mind.

This was a dangerous and unforgivably cruel world that you lived in, he had to protect you. He had to. No one else could ever comprehend how rare you were, how fragile you were, how easy it would be to grab your dainty little wrist and snap it like a twig.

God had sent you to him for a reason. You needed him. But far, far tucked beneath his delusions and obsessions, he just wanted you. All of you, everything you had to offer or didn’t realize you even had. He had to have you. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. He had to have you, all for himself.

So he had taken the unneeded job at your place of work. It was a pathetic little office desk job but you seemed to be positively at peace with it. To most, it may seem like it was by pure chance that you two were desk neighbors but to John it was fate. Fate crafted by the hands of the Father himself.

He got to see you, up close, every single day. And sooner than later, due to your lighthearted sociable nature, he got to talk with you every single day. Even though he always responded very dryly with uninteresting answers, he took in every little thing you would say to him. Inhaling it and mentally digesting it, later writing it all down as if he was trying to write your biography.

Unbeknownst to him, you never paid him much mind. He was just your desk neighbor, the man on the other side of the cubicle. You hadn’t even noticed his daily gloves or bandaged fingers. But you still liked your office neighbor. For so long that chair was empty which left you feeling more isolated and your days started to blend together. But now you had someone to briefly converse with to pass the time, and if you started to get tired or lonely all you had to do was peek over the divider for some company.

You had no idea you brought out the worst sins in him.

He was greedy with you, wanting you all to himself with no else being allowed to interact, look, touch, or even think about you. He was envious of the men you clearly liked socializing with and who made you laugh, knowing he could never be like them so casually. He was wrathful when anybody had the disgusting audacity to talk to you in such a discourteous or graceless manner, especially the regional manager’s insolence with you.

And he was filled with lust more times than he’d like to admit, essentially after every encounter. He just couldn’t fight it. Not with the way your intoxicating eyes would look down at him when you would stand to peer over the cubicle. Your diaphanous lips spreading into a smile meant for his eyes only. Your voice like warm honey oozing down into his ears causing tingles to erupt beneath his skin. The skin exposed on your body appearing so soft he was close to reaching out to caress it occasionally. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, your waist, your breasts, your neck, your hair, your hands, it all drove him wild. Even the scent of you straight waves of heat down to his pelvis.

And his sinful lust was at its most carnivorous when he would hide in your walls and watch through the holes he secretly made as you laid in your bed, your head thrown back with one hand gripping the sheets and one hand buried past your clit.

And as John intently watched you pleasure yourself without your awareness, it was times like these when John would wonder what you would look like underneath him, chest to chest and mouth to mouth and genital to genital.

He would wonder what those lustrous eyes of yours would look like filling up with thick tears. How those elegant lips would look trembling or even being widened as he would shove his tongue down your throat. How your voice would sound as a sloppy mess of dirty moans and screams of pain. How your naked skin would feel against his own and how your skin would feel if he gripped onto it hard; how fast your skin would bruise.

How your legs would feel wrapped around him or even trying to fight him off. How your bare breasts would feel squished against his hairy chest or trapped in his groping hands. How your neck would feel tightly within his hand as he squeezed, or being bitten by his fake teeth. Your hair tangled in his printless fingers, tugging on the locks. Your hands tied together above your head with red silk, unable to wiggle out of them. How your juicy thighs would feel in his kneading hands or pressing into the sides of his face as he devoured you.

And how your cunt would feel in his fingers, on his tongue, and around his cock. And how it would react to everything he wanted to do to it. And he couldn’t help but wonder what scents he would discover out of all this, especially what your climax would smell like, and your tears… and maybe your blood.

“That’s alright. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” John responded easily to your offer, a ghost of a smile pricking upon his lips.

You nodded in a polite way, a caring expression engraved in your features, before stepping out of your area and walking down the hall in pursuit of the elevator. His eyes followed your form as if gravity wouldn’t allow his pupils to stray from you. Now everyday most days he would follow you to wherever you’d go for lunch or your break or an errand, but today he was feeling trustful of you and your abilities to make it back to him safely. Just as you would under his secret supervision.

It was over two hours, a little longer than your typical lunch runs, when you had finally returned to the office and took a seat at your desk. He noted your mood was more upbeat than before you left. You weren’t very far into your meal before your desk phone rang, you picking it up as soon as you could. “Hello, (Y/n) (L/n) speaking. How can I help you?” You asked with a merry warmness to your naturally cordial voice. Quite literally heaven teasing his ears every time John got to hear you.

However, his eavesdropping created a dark atmosphere around him as he heard you giddily giggle from the other side of the cubicle, hearing you say something among the lines of “I gave you this number for emergencies only”. He could hear your bright smile.

You whispered a string of ‘bye’s in a joyful, flustered manner before placing the phone back down. John waited a few beats before speaking up to you. “Is that clingy customer bothering you again?” He asked with a soft monotone, already knowing the answer.

John knew you were absentmindedly shaking your head despite the wall concealing your reaction. “Oh, no. That guy doesn’t call me anymore.” You replied back. Perhaps because the customer who repeatedly called you with unpalatable flirtatious advances, despite your repetitive polite declining and lack of interest, was now rotting away inside a sewn up mattress; his own severed penis shoved down his own throat.

“I just ran into an old friend at the diner. We’re gonna start catching up.” You said with a twinge of gleefulness in your undertone. He could still hear your smile. He hadn’t noticed the pen snapping within his hand until he felt the ink drip down his palm.

Of course the one time he didn’t look after you, someone had stolen your mind and infected it. He was running out of time, out of time to make you his. The corrupt world was slowly closing in on you and you hadn’t a clue. The devilish sinners that so casually walked the streets were going to taint you, destroy you and your saintly innocence if he didn’t do something.

You were the bright and shining sun, the light in the distance of John’s darkness. And just like anybody would do, he knew he had to get to that light before it potentially went out.

But he needed to be patient. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so oblivious and naive this time and you’d see yourself how much of a scumbag that old friend truly was. The next day at work everything was seemingly normal, and the day after was the same as well. John felt his deranged worries minimize. That was until the very next day.

“Hey, John?” You meekly said as your head popped up over the edge of the cubicle. John had turned to you to face your kindly apologetic expression. “Sorry to bother you but do you happen to know if Ivy's Table is a fancy restaurant or a casual one?” You asked with a cutely confused tone of voice. Well, John would have fonded over your cute tone if your question hadn’t made his pulse twitch.

“What do you mean?” He asked in that gentle stoic tone of his own voice. A tone that to you was just soft and gently relaxed, but to others it was creepily emotionless. But that was just how you saw him through your unintentional rose colored glasses, that he was just a zen man with soft facial expressions. If only your poor soul knew…

A smile you tried to fight stretched across your face in excitement. “I have a date tonight,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “but I’m not sure if the restaurant we’re going to is fancy or not. I don’t know how nice I should dress.”

A date? A fucking date?

How could you let yourself be manipulated and brainwashed into such a custom with a nugatory sleazebag. No, it wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, John could never bring himself to blame you for your innocent righteousness and guilelessness. You couldn’t help your own gullibleness and how easily you trusted the deceiving barbarians around you. That was why he had devoted himself to protecting you from this vile society in the first place.

But he had failed to preserve you, you proving to not be able to fend for yourself and falling for the very first trap aimed at you the single day he had not been there for you. He had to correct his mistake. He couldn’t let whatever savage you considered an old friend and now potential suitor get their filthy hands on you. He wanted to slam his forehead down onto a hammer when the mere thought of you within the grasp of anyone other than himself cursed his mind.

He was not going to allow that. He would rather burn his beloved bible with a flamethrower than see that happen; he would rather explode the world around him than see that happen.

But he gave you a truthful answer. “I think it’s more on the formal side.” Your eyes lit up, softly shaking your head as confirmation. “Ok, thank you!” Then you dipped back behind the wall, leaving John as his body temperature raised and an unsteady, inconsistent breathing pattern huffed through his nose. His fists tightened on his desk, knuckles turning white and blue veins bulging beneath his pale skin.

~

The very next day you had showed up to work with an obvious shifted and drained mood. A solemn frown took the place of your ebullient grin. A gloomy silence in your throat rather than the bubbly morning greetings to your coworkers. Your lively, upbeat eyes were replaced with a tired gaze, pink puffiness circling them. You were so downcasted and crestfallen, you didn’t even greet John with your daily “good morning”.

Part of him was bitter over your reaction, not knowing how you could care so much about some wicked waste of a human. But a stronger part of him had spread a smug smile across his face over the sound of your light sniffles. A very smug one.

John smoothly rolled his chair around the cubicle to enter your space, for the first time ever. You were hunched over your desk with one hand rubbing over both your eyes. “Is everything alright?” John’s voice softly reached your ears, making you turn to see him. “Yeah, yeah.” You instinctively answered. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I figure the date didn’t go well?” He asked.

Your rare frown deepened as your eyes casted down to the carpeted floor. “No. The date didn’t even happen. He never showed and left me waiting there for hours. I’ve called him seventeen times and he never answers.” You pursed your lips that threatened to quiver together, slightly shaking your head. “But this is just… so unlike him. He’s not that kind of person at all. We were really close all four years of highschool since we had the same friend group. And he was a very anxious guy so he was always earlier than on time with anything he did, especially dates.” You finally looked up towards John, revealing the gloss in your eyes. “Has he really changed that much over the years and only asked me on a date for some narcissistic joke?”

Those eyes. Those eyes of yours were still caged within the barbed wire of his desire, his unwavering and unhealthy desire. And he knew he would set fire to the world around him just to have you. “He probably recognized the gap between your status’ as humans and knew his place.” John spoke with a masked consoling tone.

Your heavy frown relaxed and softened, not from comfort though. Quite the opposite. Sudden unsettlement weighed over you from how he said those words. You had nothing but good things to say about your desk neighbor John and you never once felt uncomfortable around the man or felt unsafe in his presence. But just now, for the first time ever, you felt something pinch in you. And it wasn’t a good feeling.

It felt like the quietest little siren blaring off in your head, flashing red. You felt as if someone had opened a window and a cold breeze just blew onto your back and neck, hollow chills skidding down your spine and your shoulders feeling colder.

The worst mistake you ever made was brushing off that feeling.

~

The end of the day had come to end the shifts of everyone who left in the office, dusk about to creep up to fade through the sky as the sun was setting. No matter how much of a headstart you got, you always ended up being the last one to pack up all your materials and leave. Your coworkers around you began leaving one by one, bidding you amicable goodbye’s and goodnight’s and an occasional “see you tomorrow”. If only they knew they wouldn’t see you tomorrow.

You shoved the last of your stuff you needed at home into your bag before rising to your tired feet, your droopy eyes glancing out the big window in the office to see dusk fading into the sky to create beautiful hues. It was a beautiful site, especially from the view of your office on one of the higher levels of the building. And after every shift you would admire the twilight landscape with a pleasant sense of cherishing the simple beautiful things in life. But tonight was different. And you didn’t know what it was, but something didn’t feel right.

The dark sky only gave you a sinking and haunting feeling, an intuition tempting you to not leave the building on this dark night. But you made another stupid decision and told yourself your mood was only disquiet because of your failed date yesterday. So you continued your end-of-shift routine and moved yourself in pursuit of punching your little card to clock out. You rounded the corner only to jump at the sight of John just finishing clocking out.

You forced a neighborly, benign chuckle past your uneasiness. “Oh, John, you scared me. I thought you went home already.” You said, trying to steady your frail voice. John slowly looked over to you and shrugged, motioning towards the briefcase in his hand. “I had a few documents I needed to print out.”

You slightly nodded and once he moved out of the way you shoved your card into the small machine to stamp the time and date on your card. You focused on restraining the shake in your hands as you felt John’s eyes still on you.

“Your friend.” John spoke up from beside you. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Doug Hopper, would it?” Your eyes widened and you snapped your head to him. “It… is, actually. You know him?” John faintly nodded. “He’s my neighbor. You could come by quickly to see him.”

That siren went off in your head again, the red flashes practically blinding your vision.

But your eagerness to see Doug was too strong, and that was how you found yourself now following John down the hall of a dark and coarse apartment building. Your nerves had amplified a disturbing amount since you were in the office building and that was when you had begun to heavily regret coming here, feeling as if you had no escape. You didn’t walk too far behind John but you also didn’t get too close to him. He finally led you to a door, stopping in front of it and briefly turning to you.

You wanted to leave, you wanted to turn around and run as fast as you could. Your heart was pumping so fast you feared it may burst apart. And the fact was you were so absorbed in your own anxious apprehension that you didn’t even think about what you would say to Doug. Because that became the least of your worries.

You watched as John pulled out a key from his back pocket and plugged it into the doorknob, now all the alarms in your body and conscience were going off like you were stuck in a room with multiple alarm clocks intensely going off. And this time you didn’t have the strength to ignore them. “John. I…” You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, a sick nausea sinking into your stomach. “I don’t know about this. I think I’m just gonna go home. It’s late anyway.” You spoke in a meek, fearful voice as your eyes casted down.

Your pupils looked up to get John’s response. He only smugly smiled as he unlocked the door, turning the knob all the slightest. “Don’t you trust me?” He asked with a complacent tone lacing through his dry voice that used to comfort you but now only brought disquietude. He, without receiving your answer or confirmation, pushed the door the rest of the way open.

You had so many questions that desperately needed to be answered, like why he had a key and why he was just going to waltz in unannounced. But it was as if your fear had rendered you mute, stealing all words from your throat and leaving behind a thick lump you just couldn’t swallow away.

He stood at the door frame, waiting for you to go in first. Which you hesitantly and foolishly did. You slowly walked into the apartment, it would’ve been pitch black dark if it wasn’t for the open door at the end of the hall that allowed the light from its room to emit a glow. You carefully moved down the hall, your heart pounding and your head beginning to feel dazed, your eyes locked on that open room.

When you reached the doorway of the lit up bathroom, your shaking small-pupiled eyes caved in on the bathtub on the other side of the room. Red reflected around the rim of it but you were too far away to see what was inside. Your suspense and naive curiosity overpowered your intellect as you took slow, steady steps toward the tub.

Once you reached it and looked down into the tub, your heart pulsated and was eaten by a palpitation; a beating that rang in your ears almost deafeningly. The realization of the reality of the horrific sight you were seeing hit you way too slowly, your reaction painfully being stretched out as your breath finally hitched from how terror gripped around you like King Kong’s fist.

The tub was filled with crimson blood as Doug’s body laid in it, his upper body widely torn open from his Adam's apple to his pelvis. His insides were on complete display but all his organs had been removed, only his ribs and spine remaining. His head was laid back over the edge, his skin a ghostly pale and his eyes wide open along with his blue lips parted. He was just an empty carcass bathing in his own blood.

Heavy tears sat in the corners of your eyes painfully, like if they fell then you would share the same fate as the one in front of you. Your watering eyes shook terribly as you couldn’t separate them from the sickening, gorey site. Your mouth was hung open and one sharp inhale triggered an agonized sob to escape from your burning throat. Hot tears finally cascaded down your face as your features trembled terribly. You never felt such raw horror before in your once optimistic life. You were direfully shell-shocked.

You physically tensed up once you felt a hand touch your upper back, John stepping up to stand beside you as he looked down at the body as well. “Don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.” He spoke in a soft, calm voice as he looked at the gruesome corpse with little to no emotion. He pointed down to the mutilated chest. “See? He doesn’t even have a heart.”

Your lips quivered uncontrollably like you were freezing cold. “...Why? Why would you do this?” Your voice was hoarse and quiet; weak. John tilted his head, still looking down. He thought for a bit. “I’m doing this out of love, I suppose.”

Your brows furrowed together with a slight curve upwards, slightly shaking your head as your wide lachrymose eyes were still glued down to the tub. “This is not love.” John sighed, “I don’t expect you to understand. At least not yet.”

You choked on another sob, finally tearing your leaking eyes off the corpse to look over to John whose composure was eerily way too calm. You were visibly shaking. “You’re insane.” Even your voice was shaking. You were just utterly terrified beyond what you could handle.

John finally looked up at you, removing his hand from your back as his once blank expression shifted to one of irked offense. “Insane? I’m insane?!” His voice grew louder, making you flinch from every raised pitch. “Do you know what’s truly insane? This world that insists on keeping you away from me! It’s insane that you let humanoid monsters like this sinner attempt to corrupt you! Attempt to touch you in any way! It’s insane that they think they even have the right to do that!”

You instinctively took a step back from him, but it was like he had read your mind as he instantly took a step towards you. “I would rather kill you myself than see you with anyone else! No matter what happens, I will never let anyone have you.” His blazing anger finally pitched down but you still took another step back, prompting him to take another step forward.

“Without you… I'm… nothing. I feel nothing without you.” He spoke with sick, feverish admiration laced within his features and eyes. You had taken another step away but your back had hit the wall. You were caged and cornered like an animal intended to be prey. Your limbs were shivering and tears still spilled out of your wide eyes.

John looked your fear-stricken form up and down before a small smile spread his lips. He said with a smug tone, “I hope you realize the more scared you are, the more excited I get.”

You looked his skinny figure up and down as well, weighing your options in your head. You could take him. And thus, thinking impulsively from the pressure of your own terror, you lunged your fist across his face and roughly shoved at his chest before making a run for it.

You couldn’t tell if you were too slow or your punch was too weak, but John had tackled you against the wall just before you got a close enough chance to escape the bathroom. You tried to throw hits at him but he shoved his body against yours so that you were painfully squished against the wall and him; caged. He shoved his leg in between yours and his hands pinned your arms against the wall with his nails digging into your forearms, earning hissing winces of pain from you.

“What a wicked way to treat me, the person who loves you, like this.” He said in between your ear and neck as you struggled and squirmed against him. “I just want to protect you. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

You wanted to respond with something hateful but you froze in your position from the sound and vague feeling of his nose slightly caressing the crook of your neck while inhaling deeply through his nose. “Wh-what are you d-doing?” Your voice said in between breathy sobs, your legs and arms still trembling.

“I’ve just realized,” John began, “I’ve never got to feel you before.” The hands that squeezed your forearms slowly began to massage your skin, the bandages on his fingertips feeling like sickening velvet. Wiggling his leg lightly between your inner thighs, pressing his chest closer to yours as his warm breath dusted onto your neck. You squeezed your tear filled eyes shut in wild discomfort. “This is the closest we’ve ever physically been.” He breathed out.

A meter was the minimum of space that had ever been between you, and now he was pressed up against you, not even a millimeter of air left between you. It sent blood to his already flushed cheeks and straight down to where his khaki pants began to strain; an erotic euphoria bubbling within his gut as he unintentionally released a stuttered, breathless moan. His palms nuzzled against the plush skin he held onto. He could feel you so distinctly.

When you felt his nose inhale in your hair that’s when you began to struggle against him again. “Get OFF me!” You finally snapped out at him, trying to use your body weight to shove him off of you. His grip slightly loosened which gave you the opening to thrash your forearms out of his hold and begin punching at his chest.

John’s hand snatched your throat in a haste and shoved you back against the wall, compressing harshly. You choked on a gasp as your hands flung to his in a desperate attempt to claw his fingers off. “You have no idea how nice I’m choosing to be. You should be grateful that I didn’t make you watch me gut that man like the pig he is; grateful that I’m doing this all the easy way.” He said through gritted teeth close to your face.

Your quivering lips clenched before you jerked your knee up to jab him in his groin. He wheezed and released your throat, severe gasps for air populating your mouth as you touched your stinging throat. John took an unintentional step back from you which left you the opportunity to attempt your running escape. You bolted out the bathroom and down the pitch black hall, John had closed the front door when you first walked in so the only source of light was from the bathroom you were running from. You knew you just needed to keep running straight.

You barely got to register the loud cracking noise because you had collapsed to the ground, falling roughly onto your side from the sudden sharp, roaring pain in the back of your calf. You repeatedly hissed in pain when you tried to move, heavy breathing pumping through your lungs. You reached down to your calf to feel a wet substance, a nasty mixture of horror and panic suffocating you.

It wasn’t long before John approached you with a flashlight. The bright light shifted your eyes to the illuminated floor, realizing the layer of clear rubber fabric all over the floor. “Did you really think you could escape me? Don’t you know we’re meant to be together? You’re destined to return to me.” His words fell upon your deaf ears, too caught up in shock.

“You… fucking shot me.” You croaked, your petrified eyes staring at your own wet blood on your fingers. You didn’t want to look further down to the real wound. “I suspected you’d try to run away, so I took the expected precautions.” John spoke plainly as he stepped closer to you, tucking his gun back away as his flashlight was still aimed on your fallen form. “It’s alright, I forgive you. But next time I won’t be as forgiving.”

Your breathing came out uneven and shaky as your incredibly glossy eyes remained on the fresh blood on your fingertips from your leg. John stepped over you so that you were in between his legs before he lunged down onto you, straddling your back as he forced a cloth coated in a chemical onto your mouth and nose.

Your red puffy eyes still drowned in their own terrified tears. “No! Please!” Your dolorous begs became muffled, your squirming actions slowly deflating in energy. Your vision was blurring and darkening, the wall blending with the floor as it warped into unrecognizable shapes. Your head swayed and your mind grew hazy. And before you knew what was happening, you sank into unconsciousness.

#john doe x reader #John doe #seven #seven 1995 #se7en (1995) #se7en movie #Se7en #Se7en x reader #reader insert #dark fic #yandere #david fincher #brad pitt #morgan freeman #yandere x reader

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Hi! Can I request a Wesker from the H.C.F? She accidentally confesses to him that she has feelings for hers, but she also wanted him to know because Wesker didn't seem to notice and it hurt her a lot.

Sorry for my english

Hello, anon! No worries, I gotcha. This idea was really fun to write, and I hope you like it!

For early content, check my ko-fi or patreon (links in bio). Thank you! 💖

The virus not only changed Wesker's appearance but also his personality. The reader knew him long before the mansion incident, ever since he created STARS.

He wasn't very open about his feelings back then, nor did he make an effort to express them. Still, she could sense his presence in her life despite the lack of communication. He liked to show her that he cared in a subtle, non-verbal way. This way, it felt less like a commitment. Not that he fears serious relationships, but he doesn't want to develop deeper feelings as he will get distracted from his goals.

They never expressed their feelings for each other, even if they had. They just got used to each other over the years.

He prefers to show his affection by buying all sorts of shiny and trendy stuff, such as jewelry or clothes. Rarely, he'll cuddle with her and watch a movie, but when he does, he'll return affectionate gestures such as kisses, caresses, hugs, etc. All of these have to start with her; if not, they won't happen. He will return any of them.

Prior to the virus, he showed signs of caring for her. He wasn't that distant to not give a good morning call, to ask how she feels, or to ask about her day. When she is feeling low, he tries to lighten up the mood by being very affectionate, physically speaking.

After the virus, he changed completely. He became more distant and colder. The few gentle and affectionate gestures he used to make are nonexistent in your relationship. She kisses him, but he doesn't respond. He pushes her away when she tries to cuddle, and when she tries to talk about her day, he leaves the room with an apathetic "I'm busy now" response.

It seems like he doesn't have any feelings for her anymore, but that doesn't make any sense. If he doesn't like her anymore, why did he struggle so much to get her out of R.C.?

Before leaving for his next mission as a new employee of HFC, she grabbed his hand, making him face her. He looked down at her with the same heartless stare, one that he didn't have prior to the outbreak.

"What?" he asked in a bored tone. "Nothing. I just wanted to say good luck." she tried to say in a forcedly joyful tone. "Oh, thank you, dear," he said as he turned around to leave. While he was turning to face the door, she spoke again. "And I know it's not a good time, but I really wanted to talk with you about something."

Wesker's posture changed. He wasn't so stiff; his shoulders dropped as well as his head.

"About what?" he asked. "About your behavior lately." "Oh... You're right; it's not a good moment. Maybe when I come back." "I might not be here when you come back."

Wesker froze. The grip on her hand tightened a bit. The words were bold and powerful, but they had to be said, as she wanted to know if Wesker had any feelings for her. If he didn't, then she'd pack her stuff and leave before he returned, even if it hurt like hell.

"I-I don't understand..." "Let me enlighten you. Ever since that outbreak, you've been cold and distant, and you barely look at me when we're together. It feels like I'm a nuisance to you, like you don't want me near you. I don't know what's going on in your mind, and whenever I try to talk with you about it, you either shut me down or tell me to talk tomorrow. I don't think you ever saw me as more than a roommate, and I think it's time for us to go our separate ways." "I don't get it; we've been like this ever since I knew you, and you didn't have any problems until now." Wesker replied with a slight annoyance in his tone. "Because maybe now I realize I love you."

The words came out randomly. She expected Wesker to leave, but the reaction was different. Instead of getting distant, his expression softened, and then it happened—the first genuine smile he had ever had since the virus. His eyes also changed, as their color turned into a beautiful shade of amber, and his cold stare turned into a warmer, more passionate one. He lowered his face and pressed a long, gentle kiss on her lips.

"Let's talk more about this when I come back, please." he said after he pulled out.

"S-sure."

That was the first genuine and loving kiss they shared, probably in their entire relationship. Wesker then left on his mission, his smile never fading. She felt an explosion of emotions inside her, as if something had just reborn. Maybe it was the passion flame that was ignited once more. Was she relieved that she wouldn't have to leave him? Or was he toying with her? Until he returns, she'll have to wait for his return while holding on to an uncertain promise.

Taglist: @shadow-wolf510 @cassie-todd @ravenrune

#resident evil #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x f!reader #albert wesker

[weareunderthesameskies]

watched the new thor!!! wanted to get my thoughts down so um read on for a long, rambly review (first bit is non-spoilery, the last half is more specific about plot things)

first off, it was hilarious, because of course it was. definitely had some strong, loud belly laughs. that's the mark of a waititi movie. entertaining, colorful, no doubt.

secondly, it's worth considering that it's incredibly difficult to top ragnarok. taika has said he used a lot of his bangers of suggestions on ragnarok since he didn't expect to get hired again. so in my view, love and thunder isn't better than ragnarok (since that one did so many new, innovative things in one stride) but it's a different flavour of thor that i definitely enjoyed. it doesn't seem like taika himself thinks this is better than ragnarok (based on how he promotes it and carefully talks about 'topping' ragnarok - he's mentioned that that was scary for him to pursue), but he seems to have made peace with it.

gorr was an incredible villian. bale plays him so sympathetic and creepy, and he has his own humor whilst also being a heavy heart for the emotions of the film.

i enjoyed having more time with valkyrie, and i friggin love that val and jane have some bonding time.

on that note, it seems like an absolute blast to have been on set. like, the entire crew always talks about the mood that taika brings, playing music, improvising, and for this one, having all their kids on set too. waititi's, hemworth's, portman's, bale's - like, it's really unheard of to make a family movie in that way. coming from a film background myself, i feel like most movie sets have this air of "importance" to them, or that actors suffered "bc its worth it if the movie was good in the end" but often times the movie isn't even that good to defend the shitty feeling they might have had meeting on set. it means a lot to me that taika is not only shaking up the content of what we see in hollywood (more queer & indigenous for sure) but also behind the scenes trying to change what it means to work on movies. you dont have to suffer for art he says, it's playful, its joyful, it's ridiculous, it's fun. and i respect him so much for that. so it does bring me a certain happiness thinking of the movie when i know they had so much fun making it, and i feel like that shines through.

love jane as mighty thor, love how she both got more emotional depth, comedic moments and most importantly - agency.

i do wish valkyrie had a more in depth arc - she's probably the only major character of the cast (thor, jane, val and korg) that i was kind of unsure of what changed for her during the movie. i know she had an arc planned that they kind of scrapped again? but from interviews it kind of sounds like that was also tessa's wish? in any case, it was missing.

but still, the ratio of 2:1 with jane, val and thor is not something that goes over my head lightly. do you know how friggin rare it is to have a superhero line up in a final battle with two female characters where it's not like, a gratuitous "look, the women are here" sequence? literally lets just compare it to the first thor movie, where it was only sif as the "one woman in the group of men, look, we're diverse". it felt organic, it feels good that valkyrie is thor's bff and also that he makes space to fight side by side with jane. it just. it feels good man.

more overall iffy things:

the structure is very straightforward. combat, break/talk, combat, break/talk. it gives space for the characters to elaborate their feelings, but it's also very predictable rhythm, especially towards the end.

there's a sequence with thor interacting with heimdall's kid, where thor bickers with axel. the sequence is that the kid is briefly introduced where they say he 'used to be called astrid, now wants to go by axel' and thor uses essentially his deadname, before eventually agreeing to calling him axel, and then uses axel for the rest of the movie. it's a liiiiiittle uncomfy bc of the "this is dumb, thats not your 'real name'" rhetoric, but the humor mostly sticks on a 'dumb thor' moment (think of all the bickering with hulk in ragnarok. he's a really stubborn, dumb character at times) but it cuts a little to close to home for trans people i imagine. on the other hand, canonical trans kid of heimdall? and like, if that's how some people are introduced to the idea of using a new name, the interaction still ends with thor consistently using it and never bringing it up again. so the moral is still, even though thor is dumb and stubborn, he's still respectful enough to use axel's name. but i felt umcomfy and i fully understand if some people overall dislike that sequence.

!!! MORE SPOILER SPECIFC THOUGHTS HERE !!! !!! seriously, spoilers spoilers !!!

going back to gorr, i loved the ending, i cried at the ending. how unbelievable is that, that he lets thor adopt his daughter. also, played by hemsworth's daughter? that's just too sweet.

love and thunder. like that was just. so good. "sweet child o mine" YAH. thor DILF era lets go. i think it's kind of interesting how a lot of MCU characters have started to consider the impact of children more. ever since tony with the "i love you 3000" and recently wanda's quest for her sons. i liked that gorr's mission was never "destroy the world", it felt much more like "i hate the privileged 1%" (which, you know, thor literally agreed with. refusing to be king, sharing the might thor titel with Jane, k i l l i n g Zeus. COMRADE THOR). it was a relatable villian goal, and when he then got the magic wish to bring back his daughter he took it and i just.

i love how thor's major super power is empathy. he cares so much for humans, his friends, even his villain's daughter that he raises as his own. how crazy is that. the biggest muscle is indeed the heart.

going back to jane and her agency. it's sad that she dies at the end, yes. technically, if we wanna put those glasses on, she dies and thor has character development from it, which, you know, could be one of those classic "sigh" moments. this feels different for a few reasons though. one, she choose it. and not in a spur of the moment, she was safe, away from the fighting, and she choose to put herself back in. thor begged her not to, but she said it's my life, i want to decide what happens and that's fucking powerful.

secondly, she had cancer and that was not just something to brush over. her journey was sad and serious, and this is one aspect of taika's filmmaking that shouldn't be ignored. people die in his movies - odin, the planet of asgard, but also in his others - hunt for the wilderpeople, jojo, boy - death is a really important part of the stories he tells. for natalie, getting to play jane with true emotional depth must have been revelatory for her as well. she's not just a brush over love interest, she's a complete character.

if you read all that, you get a gold star, well done. give me a lil exclamation mark in the comments or something and hit me up if u wanna talk or discuss more.

#thor #thor ragnarok #thor: ragnarok #marvel #thor: love and thunder #love and thunder #thor 4 #taika waititi #chris hemsworth #thor love and thunder #jane foster #mighty thor #review #spoilers #love and thunder spoilers #spoiler #love and thunder review

[kittyscurvycorner]

Shame-Free Fitness Resources

This is a post I added to a reblog from someone who was looking for inclusive fitness options that won't stigmatize them based on their bodies. I am adding and refining what I originally put in that post.

I, personally, have been on a journey to find genuinely body positive, anti-diet exercise channels for a while now. Please note, the costs of classes below will vary, but many of them will do a trial class or have at least some free content up on youtube or instagram. I really do encourage financially supporting people who do this work if you can!

If you're into instagram, I definitely recommend following the instructors over there and reading their posts as well, especially if you're interested in shifting your mindset regarding exercise. I know instagram and social media has a reputation for being toxic to your mind and self-image, but if you really curate your feed and intentionally follow people who are putting out body positive and anti-diet messaging it might be actually helpful instead (at least, it is for me!)

General Fitness/Providers with a variety of classes

Joyn I don’t have as much experience with them, but they are a Youtube channel specifically dedicated to joyful, body inclusive movement, they have a variety of videos from yoga to pilates to dance classes and more. There are some seated options.

Fitragamuffin is specifically non-diet, non-weight loss though may not be accessible seated. I really like her instagram, and her affirmations and mentality towards exercising has really helped me

Enlightenwell is also specifically non-diet, and non-weight loss. She has a variety of videos available and can also work one-on-one. There are at least a couple seated classes.

Specific Classes (non-yoga):

Body Positive Barre is my personal favourite instructor to follow along with, partially because I really enjoy barre apparently! She has all virtual classes and does First Class Free so you can try it out. Some seated classes available.

Yoga Instructors

Tiffany Crow does mostly yoga flow, some seated/chair options, definitely body positive.

Fringeish is another mostly yoga channel, they have a lot of options for modifications.

The Underbelly virtual yoga, comes with a 2-week free trial. I follow Jessamyn on instagram and enjoy her content.

Dianne Bondy is not someone that I have experience with firsthand, but she was linked by Meg Boggs who I've followed for a while now. I want to try out her core strength video.

Nourished Natasha is someone I've followed for a while and I enjoy her gentle, affirming style of delivery. I will admit, her aesthetic also draws me in personally.

Reyna Cohen is another yoga instructor who I follow and I've personally done some of her flows and enjoyed them.

Other Resources

I have the book Plus Size Knee Pain Solutions (formerly known as Easy Fitness for the Reluctant Exerciser). It’s not just for knee pain, it’s more like a how-to on starting from the ground up with exercise, doing a little bit every day, finding what works for your body and developing a new mentality towards movement. I didn’t actually finish the whole thing, but the exercises I did start from seated and give seated options.

I also have the e-book Weightless by Maggie McGill (full disclosure, I won it in an instagram giveaway so i did not spend money) it’s got a personal touch, encourages considering your relationship to the concept of exercise. It helped me with the idea of how exercise interacts with life and recognizing that what works in one season might not work as well when we get busy or have other stuff going on.

Superfit Hero makes really good plus size workout pants, I also did win them in the giveaway, but finding workout gear that actually fits fat bodies can be just another damn challenge to trying to move and exercise more. It’s rare that brands cater to larger bodies, and this one does.

Meg Boggs is a blogger and author who writes a lot about size inclusive fitness. Another person I mainly follow on instagram, I find her content delightful.

Overall, like, it can be very difficult hard to find good exercise resources while avoiding weight loss talk like the plague. I personally won’t settle for people/channels/resources who “only mention it a little bit”.

However, this list is not exhaustive at all. This stuff does exist out there- it's frustrating that it can be hard to find, but it's been worth it to me to find them and follow them for sure,

I hope this list helps literally even one person! If you’re not interested in the type of exercise any of the above links, I’d recommend maybe even looking at the individual’s instagrams and seeing other people they interact with might, it could lead you to something more genuinely body inclusive than the mainstream?

#size inclusive fitness #size inclusive exercise

[xenteaart]

Apocalypse Chronicles

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Getting stuck in the apocalypse certainly has its ups and downs, and this is somewhat of a dairy with little glimpses into the life you two had.

Warnings: mentions of vomit

Note: This is sort of a part 2 to this fic. Also you can check out my other fics on this Commission AU right here!

Hopefully, this is a rollercoaster.

Day 548.

You and Five were currently on your way… somewhere. You rarely had any particular destination in mind, if you were being honest. Mainly, you were just moving from one place to another, seeking shelter and looking for food and other essentials such as clothes, medical supplies and many other things, most of which were really hard to come by.

It’s been a very long day, and a fairly hard one as well because the weather seemed to get harsher with each passing mile and moving one foot in front of the other was beginning to feel like an impossible task. So, since all of your focus and concentration went into walking, naturally, you’d stopped listening to what Five was saying about thirty minutes ago. Funnily enough, it took him that long to notice you completely zoning out and ignoring his passionate ranting.

“Hey! Have you been listening?” he asked bitterly, mostly just annoyed by the fact he’d been wasting his breath.

You quickly snapped out of your daze and blinked a few times.

“Charming.” Five added as he rolled his eyes. It was this very moment when you realized something and couldn’t help but smile widely, and he raised one eyebrow in confusion as to what could be making you so happy right now.

“Your voice is starting to crack,” you pointed out. He clearly didn’t expect you to say that, and it caught him completely off guard, making him forget he was mad at you mere seconds ago.

“My boy is turning into a man!” you exclaimed; tenderness, pride and just a tiny bit of sarcasm radiating from your voice. Five shook his head and scoffed at your observation as he was trying to conceal his embarrassment; rather unsuccessfully, you must say.

Getting stuck with a slightly older girl and going through puberty was, in his opinion, beyond humiliating.

You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, pulling him closer as the sound of your joyful giggling was filling the air.

“Can’t wait till you start getting facial hair too,” you teased him and immediately felt his elbow kick your ribcage, the impact too mild to leave a bruise but certainly sudden enough to make you go “ouch!”

Day 1325.

“Five Hargreeves, you may wanna propose to me right now,” you screamed from a distance as you were still rummaging through the ruins of what used to be a grocery store. Oh, you knew he was going to love this.

After spending almost 4 years by Five’s side, you’ve come to know an impressive amount of facts about him, most of which were mundane and in the grand scheme of things, he would say, insignificant. But you didn’t see them as such and kept them all in mind, waiting for the right moment, and today was your lucky day.

“What?” he yelled back, a little confused by your assumption that seemingly came out of nowhere. Not that he didn’t like your company but marriage wasn’t on his to-do list quite yet.

As you awkwardly climbed over the debris, obviously carrying something in your hands but trying to hide it underneath your ill-fitted parka, you said, “Close your eyes.”

Five seemed hesitant, so you insisted.

“Come on, I know you don’t like surprises but it’s the nice kind, I promise.”

He finally complied and exhaled loudly as a means of communicating his growing impatience. You promptly pulled out a coffee pack from under your clothes, swept the dust off its surface in one quick motion and handed it over to Five.

“Look.”

“No way,” he opened his mouth, sincerely shocked you had managed to find something whole and completely untouched. And it happened to be coffee.

“I think I deserve at least a kiss on the cheek, wouldn't you say?” you grinned at how fast Five’s expression turned from grumpy and tired to excited and grateful.

In no time his tight grip found your waist, and he effortlessly spun you around, making you squeak in surprise as you clawed into his shoulders for support instinctively. His movements were smooth and confident as if you were light as a feather or rather weighed nothing at all, and you caught yourself really enjoying the warmth of his hands on your skin.

“You deserve a lot more than that,” Five replied with a sigh as he put you down carefully, his tone suddenly losing its playfulness and blossoming with something a titch more unexpected, and if you had to put a name on it, “affection” would be the most fitting.

Fortunately, the smudges of dirt on your skin were doing a very good job at hiding just how red your cheeks turned at the comment.

Day 1557.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Five snarled irritably, interrupting you mid-sentence, and your jaw dropped in shock. You could have sworn it felt exactly what getting stabbed in the stomach would feel like.

You were a very short-tempered individual and in any other context you would have snapped back, making some scathing comment and walking away with your chin up. This time - not a single word left your mouth as you were paralyzed by Five’s unfiltered hostility. You felt your eyes burn and immediately turned away to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek, too proud to let him see how much it hurt.

In your defence, you weren’t much of a talker before the apocalypse but it didn’t take you long to find out that being locked up in your own head in a deathly quiet world was not a good way to spend your days. So you kept talking, for both Five’s and your own sanity. It made things feel less real, however paradoxical it may sound. But, more importantly, it was a gesture of care.

You spent the rest of the day without saying a word, and, to your disappointment, Five wasn’t willing to break the silence either. Not talking, however, didn’t mean not looking after each other, and you, of course, made him dinner while he organized a safe place for you both to spend the night.

Since there was never a roof over your heads, you tended to sleep very close to each other, exchanging body heat to keep each other warm. At first, it was only a safety precaution but the habit slowly transformed into something more meaningful, somewhat of a necessity to know and feel that the other was still alive and breathing, still there, safe and sound.

As the two of you were lying in your improvised bed, which was essentially just a few layers of blankets on the hard and unfriendly concrete, you felt Five’s hot breath against the back of your neck as he cuddled you from behind. The big spoon.

“I deeply regret saying that,” Five whispered and sighed in frustration at his own self. He knew he royally fucked up.

“Please, don’t ever stop talking. I need it and I need you, okay?” he uttered so quietly that it was almost inaudible but you caught every word.

You clenched your teeth.

“Okay.”

Day 1866.

Birthdays were never a happy event in the apocalypse and you only kept track of them in order to know your own age.

Every birthday was nothing but another reminder of how much time you’ve spent trapped in this nightmare, and there was truly nothing either of you wished to celebrate.

However, this time you decided to make an exception. Five was turning eighteen and, despite the fact that your circumstances were far from perfect, it was a big day nevertheless.

To say you had limited resources would be saying nothing at all. No cake, no candles, no decorations, no anything to create an environment for having fun, and the only thing at your disposal was your contagious enthusiasm. It wasn’t much but it was surely something.

“Wakey-wakey, sleeping beauty,” you whispered into Five’s ear as you tapped on his shoulder, gently breaking him out of his sleep. He murmured something incoherent and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to escape the bright and intrusive daylight.

“Come on, I’ve made you a birthday breakfast,” which wasn’t at all different from any other breakfast but you believed a sprinkle of love that you so thoughtfully added was definitely going to make it taste a bit less like wet cardboard.

“We have plans for today,” you stated proudly as you were waiting for Five to get up. He glanced at you suspiciously, and you were quick to reassure him.

“You can do your clever math things till evening but after that we’re celebrating. There are two bottles of wine that you didn’t know about, and we’re going to drink them and dance. But not ball dance, properly drunk dance. No sadness allowed. Instructions clear?”

Five nodded, feeling a weary yet content and cheerful smile touch the corners of his lips.

Maybe, it wasn’t going to be a shit day, after all.

Day 2587.

“Come on, don’t you dare die on me, you idiot,” Five hissed after pressing his lips against your forehead and coming to a disturbing conclusion that your fever was only getting worse.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you laughed weakly as you looked up at him, and in less than a second a violent wave of nausea washed over your body and swallowed you whole, leaving you with very little chances to escape the overwhelming feeling. You’d been throwing up non-stop the entire day, and the severe dehydration you were suffering was becoming a genuine concern.

The two of you didn’t have the luxury of medicine, and most days you were doing just fine. This time, however, sleeping it off didn’t seem to be doing it for you, and Five was beginning to panic.

“Don’t say that,” Five said coldly, and you winced at the sudden change of mood, almost offended that he wasn’t trying to distract you from your mysterious illness with humor.

“I’m just worried about you,” he clarified as he noticed a gleam of sadness in your eyes.

It was absolutely killing him to see you like that - in pain, sick and exhausted, and he simply couldn’t afford to have “sad” on the list as well.

If there was one thing that Five despised more than anything else in this world, it would be helplessness, and now, as he was facing the invisible enemy that was threatening to take you away, he was feeling exactly that. Helpless. Useless.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe through another urge to vomit, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth loudly, but the agonizing sensation didn’t seem to have any compassion or mercy for you.

“Okay, I can’t hold it back any longer,” you warned, and Five nodded in silent understanding.

He’d been sitting by your side and holding your hair all day, thoughtfully keeping it away from your face while you were restlessly puking your guts out, and, as you were doing so, not a single muscle on his face cringed in disgust. The only thing that was truly bothering him about this marathon of vomiting was how soon you were going to recover from it.

Thankfully, your immune system was strong enough to get you back on your feet without any external assistance, and you began to get better eventually. But even during your weeks of sickness there wasn’t a single day when you didn’t feel loved and cared for, and the precious moments of Five holding your hand during your feverish nightmares were going to be imprinted on your mind forever.

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x you #tua #The Umbrella Academy #number five #five hargreeves #my fic #my writing #tua fic #tua fanfic #Umbrella Academy #reader insert

[ticklikeabomb]

One-Shot : Unique

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Plus Size Reader

Request Anon: Can I request a EZ or Angel imagine where the girl is plus size of course but she’s insecure about her body in a lingerie set she got and EZ or Angel tell her and show her how beautiful they think she looks? Can be smutty and fluffy?

Warnings: Language, SMUT (18+), fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope you’ll like it :) 

You were an extremely stubborn person. Every time you would hear someone comment on an issue that concerned you or how some type of people, physically speaking, would be able to do things that you couldn’t, you would do everything in your power to prove them wrong. That’s how you ended up knowing how to do splits, gymnastics, pole dance, wear (tight-colorful-stripped-bikini) clothes that were deemed unflattering to your figure. Everything that would go against your capacities as a plus size person, you would stubbornly prove how wrong they were.

That was what seduced Angel. Your ability to stay calm, composed before showing up days, weeks, months later with the ability to show how some people’s conceptions were wrong. Well that but also the fact that he finds you gorgeous, sexy, funny, kind, compassionate, open-minded and so much more.

You were finishing cleaning up your work desk before making your way out to pick up Leticia. Coco had asked you if you could spend some time with her while he had some club business to attend to. You happily accepted, using the opportunity to get to know her more. The first time you met, you noticed she was reticent towards you but she quickly warmed up thanks to your joyful and confident personality. Besides, she noticed how much the club loved you and realized if they did, then you truly must be someone great and deserving of a chance.

Here you both were, walking around the store’s aisles, trying to find some outfits for Letty’s coming up first day of school. “What about this?”, you asked her while showing her the slim jeans paired with a simple white t-shirt and a leather jacket. She analyzed the outfit and smiled content. “It’s not bad. I’m sure Coco will approve”, she said. You chuckled and nodded in agreement. You checked some other stores before you noticed her eyes longing on a particular store. Turning to where her gaze was fixed, you slightly smirked. “Come on, let’s go check”, you said and entered the lingerie store. You choose a set each. A sober, simple ensemble for Letty and a sexier one for you.

After dropping her off, you headed home surprised but happy to see Angel’s bike at the porch. “Babe?”, you chanted when entering your apartment. You found him on the couch watching soccer, at the crossover of taking a gulp of his beer and yelling at the players. A smile graced his face when he saw you staring at him. “Hey, didn’t hear you come”, he stood up and captured your lips in a small kiss. You hummed, your hands circling his neck to intensify the kiss. “Missed me?”, he teased. You bite your lip and nod. “I’m gonna take a shower”, you tell him while he goes back to his game.

You did the full combo: hair, body, shaving, body lotion, face mask. Immediately you felt more relaxed and decided to try on the lingerie set you bought at the mall. Since the store was almost closing you decided to take it and return it the next day in case you didn’t like it. Lifting the stripe of your bra, you looked yourself at the mirror. Your smile faltered by the second, your brows frowning and your eyes scanning your figure in it. Something was bothering you. Was it the color? The sizing? The design, maybe? You didn’t know but you felt uncomfortable, insecure even. A negative feeling you tried to battle for years. In a world where the beauty standard body was thin, you felt invisible. That feeling of invisibility deepens every time a brand uses the body positivity movement to expand their clientele by showcasing an “acceptable” plus size body. Rarely one like yours. You were round, soft, plus size, curvy, voluptuous, fat – chose your word but not in all areas. Looking at yourself you felt like your body wasn’t well proportioned. Hips, ass, belly, arms to large completed with micro-tits. It never really bothered you before but, in that moment, and in that lingerie set, it did.

“Are you ok?”, you hear your boyfriend’s voice, his worried features looking at you from the door. You blinked several times, trying to make the incoming tears vanish. “Yep”, you lie and he knows it. Positioning himself behind you, his arms sliding around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, he fixes his eyes on yours. “You’re a terrible liar. Come on, tell me why my gorgeous lady is on the verge of tears while looking this hot?” You clean the falling tear from your face and feel his grip on you tightening. “I… It’s nothing, it’s stupid”, you say and try to disengage from his hold but he’s not having it. “If it leaves you in this state, then it’s not nothing. Please talk to me. I know I’m not always around but I’m here for you, no matter what.”

You sigh and finally have the courage to look at him in the eyes. “I look dumb. In this set. Some areas are too big and others barely non-existent”, you confess. He frowns but doesn’t dismiss your feelings. He doesn’t say anything, showing you his complete attention. “I mean, wouldn’t I look better with bigger breasts? Because, like breasts are supposed to be ‘THE’ feminine attribute and I don’t have it. I don’t like it”, you ramble until the room stays quiet. He slowly turns you to face him, lifting your chin up. “You want the truth?”, he asks to which you nod. “First, I don’t think you look dumb at all. I think you look hot ass fuck and I’ve got a long and thick muscle that agrees with me.” His statement makes you chuckle and he smiles. “Second, I love your small cute breasts and besides I’m an ass man and querida you are serving”, he whispers closely to your ear, his hands sliding down and squeezing your behind. You feel the atmosphere change in the room, heat invading your body. “Angel”, you moan while his lips kiss your neck. “Third, who said that breasts are the feminine attribute. That’s bullshit.”

He grabs your face and makes sure you’re looking at him, the intensity in his eyes showing you how serious he is. “And finally, the things you’re looking at and feeling insecure about, are the things that make you unique. Choosing me to share your uniqueness with, makes me the luckiest and proudest motherfucker in the world. I love everything about you and so much more.” Your breath gets stuck in your throat, his declaration giving you chills and burn your heart. “You’re wrong about one thing. I’m the luckiest. Hor having you”, you exclaim before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Touching every parcel of your skin, he walks you to the edge of the bed and lays you on it, crawling in between your spread legs. Instantly, his mouth is on you, kissing your chest, biting and licking on your collarbones, groaning when feeling your knee rub against his hard and eager member. He slides the bra’s straps down, freeing your breasts from their confines. He makes eye contact while his tongue slowly circles around your already hardened nipples, making you arch your back and moan. He keeps his ministration, while his other hand, slides down your body and circles your clit. “An—g—el, please”, you plead him.

He lifts himself up and discharges his shirt, while you unbuckle his pants as fast as your trembling fingers can. He kisses your body down again but this time with compliments attached to his mouth while doing so. “I need you baby, please”, you moan and hope he’ll get the clue. He chuckles before his arms grab your waist and reverse the position, leaving you on top of him. You grind on his cock, creating some friction before leaning and licking the vein on the side. Angel’s body shivers from your tongue, his cursing and moaning being heard in the room. Slipping his hand around your hair, he lifts you up and tells you to ride him. You position him right under your entrance before sliding down and gasp in unison. Your hips quickly find their rhythm, his hands on your ass, pressing you down with each thrust. “Like that Y/N. So beautiful, so good”, he moans and lifts himself up in a sitting position, making him go deeper inside you. He thrusts up meeting you, your mouths on each other. The moment not only erotic but passionate and true. “I’m close”, you whisper in his ear. “Let go, I’m here, right behind you”, he moans and you do. You let yourself go, your orgasm provoking his, your bodies pressed insanely close, molding like marble sculptures.

“Te queiro mucho, mi amor”, he hears you say before falling asleep a few minutes later. “I love you too, future Mrs. Reyes”, he replies with a kiss on your forehead.

*gif, credit to the owner*

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#angel reyes x plus size reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #plus size fanfiction #plus size reader #Mayans MC #mayans fx #fanfiction #fanfic #angel reyes x reader

[bookandcover]

What I miss most: “the liminal, magical space that is the live concert venue.” ~June 8, 2021

I’m so glad to have finally read this book after it was repeatedly recommended to me by several different friends. Hanif Abdurraqib has an absolute gift for crafting essays that braid his personal experiences with the (sometimes seemingly cosmic, and therefore daunting to explain or conceptualize) forces of racism, sexism, economic inequality, and nationalism in America. He also jumps seamlessly in scale and in scope, summarizing the heart of something hugely complex—a masterpiece album, a regional sound, a decades-long relationship—without reducing the irreducibly complex, without sacrificing specificity, without sounding trite. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book quite like this, although I haven’t read very much Creative Non-Fiction. Regardless, Hanif moves skillfully, masterfully. I love the collection’s confidence in narration, the love of language, the direct confrontation with that which makes us all deeply flawed (deeply human).

Each of these essays could stand alone. It’s a joy to read even one and Abdurraqib’s style shines through in just a couple pages. He crafts his stories with such dexterity. It’s clear that he comes from a background in poetry, as he celebrates language, builds vivid images, and thinks thematically. (I love the moments that are truly experimental—erasures of his own work, pieces without punctuation that flow on and on in one interlinked sequence). At the same time, he relies heavily on facts and content. Part of his conviction is born of research and depth of understanding. He knows his subject; yet, within this knowledge, he expresses personal preferences and sentimental love. I learned a ton from this book about music, about the history of particular musicians, about the relationship between racial inequality and self-expression within the field of music. Together, these essays form of complex tapestry of recent history in America seen through the lens of music. I absolutely loved the experience of coming to understand the interweaving of so many of our lives’ central questions and tensions through the history of music.

Art is inherently political, as many contemporary artists would agree (a viewpoint that counters the modernists before them who argued for the apolitical nature of art—art for art’s sake). Abdurraqib makes a very compelling argument for the deep integration of art with politics, social systems, economics, and trends. These things, however, are also deeply tied to the powerful forces of our choices, our identities, our love, and our compassion. It does not cheapen art of have it be so informed by, so shaped by political and social forces. In Abdurraqib’s worldview, art is the medium by which we reflect ourselves back to ourselves. And it’s also the medium by which we find freedom, by which we challenge ourselves to grow beyond the ways we understand ourselves to be. Race is the most central political and social theme that weaves throughout these essays, starting with the title of the book, which is introduced in the essay on Bruce Springsteen. “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us” are the words that hang above Michael Brown’s memorial in Ferguson, Missouri. It might be hard to imagine an essay that weaves a Springsteen concert with a trip to Michael Brown’s resting place, a task that would certainly be daunting to any other writer, yet Abdurraqib navigates this with dexterity that seems natural, fundamental to how he thinks about the world.

Within the framework of race in America, some of the themes from these essays that I most appreciated and internalized included: Black joy (when it’s expressed and what it means), the markings of wealth (in the context of a journey out of poverty), and the policing of authenticity (or other forms of self-expression/emotion). Black joy is mentioned repeatedly in these essays, as something to be commented on for its rareness, while also positing the idea that music is a space that more boldly permits Black joy. Awareness of joy seems flow underneath these essays; it’s something not taken for granted, something treasured. I found this awareness of joy in the essay on Nina Simone’s Blackness and in the contrast between how she is portrayal by Hollywood and how she lives on in Abdurraqib’s childhood memories. I found this awareness of joy in the essay “Surviving Punk Rock Long Enough to Find Afropunk,” which focused on the exclusion of Black bodies from punk rock spaces (and the disregard for the handful of Black bodies that dared to enter anyway), while emphasizing the inherent survival in the African American experience that resonants deeply with punk rock’s values. A longing for a space that is joyful for Black people was addressed beautifully in the essay on Whitney Houston and Michael Jackson, in which Abdurraqib wishes for a home in the darkness of the photo of the two of them, where he sees “a small & black eternity.”

One of my favorite essays in the collection was the piece “Burning That Which Will Not Save You: Wipe Me Down and the Ballad of Baton Rouge,” which focuses on the rise of three Baton Rouge rappers—Foxx, Lil Boosie, and Webbie—in the years that followed Hurricane Katrina, which changed the outlook of Baton Rouge and its relationship to loud neighbor New Orleans. The essay breaks down the fundamental pieces of the rapper persona (circa mid-to-late 2000s): shoulders, chest, pants, shoes. For each of these elements, the essential nature of each is discussed, particularly as they relate to signaling both wealth and self-confidence: the dream realized. I loved this essay because it brilliantly articulated something I’ve always sensed (understood in myself in certain ways), but been unable to well-articulate, which is the power of “markings of wealth” in the life of someone who has survived through poverty, or an understanding of the proximity of poverty. For this person, the possession of wealth (things that show wealth, that communicate its presence to others, whether or not there is a real depth of wealth) feels and is different. Someone wears their wealth differently if they are conscious of it. This is a different look than that of the third-generation millionaire’s son for whom a real depth of security is so deeply ingrained as to limit the frame of imagination to always include it. I loved how this essay explained that wealth is not an universally proud/cocky look, but instead braggadocios, something that has a lot of context, a lot of nuance, a lot to do with environment and habit and understanding of temporary/permanent.

Sports, another space in which the economic and political forces of America come head-to-head with the personal and lived experiences of diverse Americans, also center several of these essays. Abdurraqib has a similar appreciation of sports—spaces of fandom, spaces of mass-appeal, spaces where the struggles and triumphs of a few become the struggles and triumphs of many—as he has of music. The social discussion around sports also holds a magnifying class to systemic racism, a process which Abdurraqib unpacks and examines. Serena Williams is discussed as an example of the policing of Black self-expression (policing how she expresses anger, how she expresses confidence, i.e. “too loudly” for the white Western world), topics also addressed in depth in “On Kindness.” “Black Life On Film” tackles the way violence is romanticized and compartmentalized as part of the Black experience, allowing an observation of violence for white viewers that is unhinged from a need to alleviate it, to address it. These same tensions and problems bubble forth in the dialogue around sports, as the eyes of the nation are turned to popular topics, which are filtered through (nearly exclusively, exhaustively) the same biased lenses.

As Abdurraqib develops these complex themes, he relies on a few central tools that are essential to his literary project. To point out these common tools is not to say that Abdurraqib only has a couple tricks up his sleeve. These aren’t “tricks” at all. Instead, these seem important to how he thinks about the world, things that are inseparable from his mode of observation.

His most central tool is the “parallel events” essay structure. With this approach, Abdurraqib details what happened for him personally as events occurred elsewhere that rocked the framework and landscape of America. A collapse of time collapses distance. Abdurraqib seems to have experienced many of these such moments of collapse, as he vividly recalls where he was and what he was doing as particular significant events unfolded. The eeriness of these experiences are not lost on a reader; we’ve all been there. To say that Abdurraqib has experienced many of these is to, perhaps, point out how much current events impact and rock him (as they always do those who belong to the groups that are, time and time again, targeted and destroyed in America). But it’s also, perhaps, to point out the precision of Abdurraqib’s memory. He holds onto details like a vice, capturing for us in painful and poignant specificity the situation in which he personally broke against the tragedy of the news (as the news breaks to us, we break against it, like waves). One of the delicate powers of Abdurraqib’s use of this essay structure is the way that his personal narrative is not cheapened, nor lessened when set up against the national event, the event we all remember. Instead, one is given the right urgency and the other given the right intimacy.

This technique for framing an essay (an experience, a life) begins in the essay “A Night in Bruce Springsteen’s America” in which a white older man at a Springsteen concert tells Abdurraqib he was at another Springsteen show on the evening Lennon was murdered. While this man wishes that “no one gets killed out there during the show this time,” there’s no world in which, for Abdurraqib, someone is not killed out there during this show. The cycle of loss that is stitched into Abdurraqib’s environment, his racial identity, is too great for him to ever hold that same hope. I think that this technique of parallel events (one personal and intimate, one tectonic and tragic) is best maximized in the short piece “August 9, 2014,” a poetic erasure of Abdurraqib’s own writing. In the main text, Abdurraqib recounts something that seems, on the surface, like an every day experience: another passenger complaining on the flight he’s boarding, a mother asking to switch seats so her son can look out the window. With the bulk of the text crossed out, the secondary narrative that emerges from the remaining words is of another mother asking for her son. The date in the title clarifies that this secondary mother-son narrative centers on the shooting of 18-year-old Michael Brown. The longing, the seeking, the asking of both mothers exists in a poignant overly. Perhaps what the mother on the plane asks for is trivial, all things considered, but Abdurraqib never dismisses her impulse to shelter her son, from fear, but, at the same time, to let him see the world beyond the plane’s window. The personal and small that occurs in Abdurraqib’s unique experience takes on the sacredness, the elevation of the cosmic, the tectonic plate shifts of death/life, and also the heralding in of a new/old era in America with the birth of the Black Lives Matter movement.

My favorite, though, of all these essays was “Fall Out Boy Forever,” one of the most personal in the collection. Abdurraqib places the loss of his closest friend to suicide into the context of the rise, fall, and rebirth (as if from the ashes) of the band they both loved. Abdurraqib’s long-term fan following of Fall Out Boy works like pearls on a string, moments in time that span years, yet unite into a collective personal narrative. This narrative rang so, so true to me, as someone for whom the bulk of the past six years has been shaped by my relationship to a specific band. Their narrative contains my narrative; my narrative contains their narrative. Their concerts, their albums, their successes, their growth—these things exist like glowing points on the thread of my experience. I recall my life within this thread, anchored by it. I know the previous time I was able to see my grandparents, down to the exact date three years ago, because it followed on the heels of a particular BTS album that played in my ears over and over that week. I know when and where I traveled within the timeline of their music. I know when my friendships blossomed, pinned to the backdrop that is their musical evolution. I know the ways they challenged and changed me, changed my writing, grew my sense of myself. I know how inseparable I am from BTS, and I saw this so poignantly reflected in Abdurraqib’s journey with Fall Out Boy.

Like any true fan (the fan who is not self-interested, the fan who is there for the ups and downs, the fan who is there for the real story), Abdurraqib observes the members of Fall Out Boy with such astuteness (this made me go and listen to more Fall Out Boy songs than I ever had before). I loved the way he captures the dynamic between the band members. He’s great at this in general (his insights into the intra-band relationships in Fleetwood Mac and the production of the album Rumors was also so engaging), but there’s a different intimacy, a different kind of care with Fall Out Boy. Abdurraqib’s ability to so clearly reveal his own close relationship with Tyler in the context of Fall Out Boy’s inner life is striking and heart-breaking—from Patrick’s frantic internalization of his music (performed for himself, yet in front of a crowd) without Pete’s complimentary/conflicting (necessary) presence when Abdurraqib seems him perform solo in Austin, to Tyler’s DESTROY WHAT DESTROYS YOU patch that Abdurraqib casts into the pit at a concert after wearing it to shows for years. To me, Tyler leapt from these pages, alive in the space where Fall Out Boy and their audience come together, transcending his own life’s timeframe in the liminal, magical space that is the live concert venue. This essay made me feel less alone in my experience of life perceived through the lens of music. This essay was Abdurraqib’s project at its most intimate, where the perception that happens through the lens of music is, most fundamentally, that of one’s self.

#they can't kill us until they kill us #hanif abdurraqib #music criticism #important reading #race in the context of music #art is inherently political #writing about race #writing about music #rap #hip hop #pop music #creative nonfiction #popular culture #black lives matter #fall out boy forever

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Mooncalled (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Author’s note: Hey everybody! A little fluff here because Remus deserves it! You can find my masterlist here, maybe buy me a ko-fi here and my discord is here! (The art is not mine it belongs to its owner/creator)

Warning: None

Words: 959

Sitting near the fire, your Beginner Guide of Transfiguration on your laps and your cat sitting next to you, you listened to the nearly empty common room with delight.  Low, humming whispers were the only distraction from your studies tonight. The pre-matches nights were always the best. The youngest students were going to sleep to be up early on the big day, players were doing last-minute reunion about the match in a corner, talking low, and the oldest students were studying in silence.

You were one of the oldest students: a fifth-year, with the O.W.Ls around the corner, you were trying to absorb as much knowledge you could before the exams. At the moment, it was your transfiguration book you were burning wholes into, and covering it in notes. Your cat was purring loudly, resting his head on the small spot on your tights that was not a book or your arms. It was getting a bit late, and you knew that Lily was already in the dorms, sleeping probably. That girl was never one to stay up late, even for studying. Funny to think she once stayed up to wait on James Potter and his marauder for a good part of the night to tell him off about the prank he went to put somewhere in the castle that night. She wasn't the girl she once was. Maybe it was the long night of studying. 

The couch dipped under the weight of someone. You raised your head from your book. 

Remus was sitting to your right. His transfiguration book also opens on his laps, and his face seems more tired than ever. He smiled in your direction. ''It's impossible to study with James and Sirius talking about Quidditch.'' His eyes closed a bit in the smile, and you wondered if he would instantly fall asleep. When he opened them again, your shoulders relaxed. 

You shot a glance at James and Sirius, their backs were facing you two, in the circle the Quidditch team had created for their reunion. James -newly named captain- made hands movement and presented a piece of parchment to the rest of the group.

''I bet!'' 

Your hand stroked your cat mindlessly, returning to your studies. A silent moment like this with Remus was not rare, but they were usually spent with Lily. Not that you complained right now. Your hand met another as you were petting your cat, and a quick glance told you it was Remus'. You withdrew your fingers and took back your quill. Now, that was strange. You knew for a fact that Remus did not like cats at all. Lily's cat was one of the most affectionate ones, and he still managed to scare him every time. Your cat-not the most friendly at all- was purring to her heart's content, now laying on her back, paws up in the air. 

''She's cute.'' Muttered Remus, eyes still on his book.

''Yeah.'' You look at the cat somewhat stunned. ''She doesn't like people normally, neither dogs,'' you turned the page of your book, faking a shrug. ''She must really like you then!'' 

Remus's face shot up. If you'd looked at him then, the red on his cheeks wouldn't have stayed secret. But since your eyes were still fixed on your notes, he regained control of his emotions quickly. He, too, looked back down at his notes. For a moment, the only sounds in the common room were the whispers of the quidditch team in the background and the fire's crackling. 

You were occupying yourself with the five principal exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration when Remus cleared his throat to talk again. By the corner of your eyes, you could see Sirius making hands movement to him, and you weren't sure if that was a good sign. Instinctively, your back straightened, and you glanced quickly around yourself. But no unidentified magical object (or UMO like you called them) was coming your way. You relaxed, five years spent in the same house as the Marauders taught you to always be on your guard with them around. 

''Are you going to the match tomorrow?'' He asked, his voice wavering like a young teenager. 

Following the Evanesco movement with your wand, as depicted in your book, you raised your eyes toward Remus'. 

''Maybe, I'm not sure yet.'' The bottle of ink sitting on the coffee table before you vanished, with a satisfactory smile, asked, ''Why?'' The boy shrugged next to you. 

''I was thinking, knowing as Lily won't come, maybe you'd go with me?'' One of his hands went back to petting your cat. ''Peter's in detention tomorrow, so I'm going alone too...'' He didn't say that he would really like to have a moment alone with you. 

You shrugged, shuffling pages to go read a bit about another spell you had some difficulties with—beautiful things were usually hard to conjure. 

''Sure, I'll go with you.'' 

With your wand, in a breathless voice, you muttered the butterfly-conjuring spell. You were starting to get a hold on non-verbal spells. A myriad of small butterflies appeared from your movement. They flew around for a moment before disappearing in a rain of paillettes. You closed your book. 

''Okay, then, I'll see you tomorrow?'' 

Remus smiled. For a moment, you could swear that if he'd been a dog, a tail would have wagged behind him. 

''Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow.'' 

If you'd stayed longer, you would have heard Sirius and James talking to the boy. Joyful and excited for him. Maybe even teasing. 

''Good job Moony. You asked her out!''

Remus groaned. 

''I asked her to go watch the game with me tomorrow, not asked her out. It's a friendly date.''

James hollered. ''Yeah, sure.''  

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #Harry potter #Harry Potter fandom #fuck jk #fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin one shot #the marauders #Moony #x reader #quidditch #quidditch dates

[daughterofelros]

I’m seeing a fair bit of anger on my dash today directed at the idea of a poly relationship between Alex, Michael, and Maria.

Now, I multi-ship and will entertain most things, so I’ll definitely be appreciative of a lot of the meta and creative content that comes about here.

I’m also Poly myself. So I will brook no Puritanical Hatred of any forms of Ethical Non-Monogamy (any time where a person dates or is intimate with more than one person, and their partner(s) are aware of it.) I’m a firm defender of the idea that love isn’t a finite resource, and that Poly is valid as an option for how we configure relationships.

But there are ALOT of misconceptions out there that have me wide-eyed and pulling out my hair, because I hate miscommunication.

So I want to address a few of them��� because given the state of ship drama in RNM fandom, when we use the same term without understanding it’s multiple meanings, miscommunication is a given, and it leads to needless harm.

Throuple: First, let’s get this out of the way. Biggest red flag that the person talking about three people dating doesn’t move in Poly communities? If they use this word. “Throuple” is not a thing. It exists solely in the mind of Hollywood Screen Writers and Web Article Authors. The only time I’ve ever heard a Poly person use this term is to roll our eyes and mock it. There are serious reasons for that, but we usually try to keep to eye rolling and move on.

Why Throuple Isn’t A Thing: So, Poly is a form of Ethical Non-Monogamy.

That means the relationship dynamics that require one person to date two others equally at the same time in the same way? Unrealistic expectation and best, deeply unethical at worst— dictating who someone can, can’t, or should love isn’t ethical, and that’s what an expectation of three people all dating each other the same way is. Triads where everyone dates each other are really, really rare. And ones where two or more of the people identify as male? Extra extra rare. That triangle where everyone dates everyone else? Deeply unusual.

And in the case where it does exist? There are four relationships, not just one— each relationship between each point of the triangle, AND the overall group relationship too. Each of those have to be invested in, and each of those have to be their own autonomous relationship that grows and changes at its own pace.

Also, it should never be assumed that two people will date because they both like the same person. And people shouldn’t be expected to date if their attractions are incompatible. People also shouldn’t be expected to date if they’re Bi/Pan but not automatically into each other. In the rare event a triad forms and everyone dates everyone else...each dynamic should be unique and grow at its own pace. It’s not just monogamy with an extra body.

Okay, so...Triad?: Yup! Triad is a much better word! One that Poly people actually use to describe themselves, or aspects of their dating life. Though again, really rare to have 3 people all date each other.

Wait, what do Poly Reationships look like if everyone isn’t dating?: Most often, they look like “V” or “hinge” relationships, where Person A and Person C each date Person B, but not necessarily each other.

(Fun reminder: dating and sex aren’t necessarily the same thing, so these dynamics are about expressing a relationship, not all about sex.) Also, just because they’re not dating, the dynamic between A and C might still be REALLY important. Sometimes, there’s not much connection, but usually, that metamour dynamic is super important.

Metamour?: Yup! Vocab lesson— metamour is how you say “partner’s partner”. It’s two people dating the same person, but not each other. This looks different for different people, but for a lot of poly folks, the support structure between metamours is one of the grand benefits of Poly. Metamours may go out for coffee, hang out together, be friends, play video games together, go to the gym together, hang out and cook together, and spend time with their mutual partner both together and alone. Everyone’s mileage may vary, because some folks prefer a polite distance and don’t really ever hang out. Me? I play D&D with most of my metamours, and I’ve spent the weekend on a fishing trawler with one of my metamours because she needed a buffer from her bigoted family during their annual fishing trip. Another metamour has kids in the school where I work, so sometimes I pick the kids up! We all have big dinner parties or movie nights that involve different parts of the polycule. Our dynamic is very “kitchen table” with everyone being a big ol’ family.

Multiple Metamours? Polycule?: Yeah! Most poly people are open to dating more than 2 people over time. As we map these relationships, that tends to look like a constellation or a diagram of a molecule. Hence, “polycule”. Poly rarely looks like a closed triangle. It also doesn’t usually involve just a single V. More often, it involves a bunch of different configurations, and a bunch of ways of setting up households (including deliberately not living together. Lots of folks practice solo poly where they don’t cohabitate with anyone else. Some folks are all raising kids together in the same house. Lots of dynamics exist in-between those points!)

Here’s a great polycule map from Kimchee Cuddles! It shows how dynamics shift over time, overlap, and weave together. Diagrams like this are frequently drawn by Poly folks, oftentimes on napkins over dinner.

But...Isn’t Jealousy An Issue?: Sure! Jealousy can be a thing- it’s a really human emotion! Most people who find themselves living a Poly life find themselves have to deal with jealousy at some point. One key thing though is that for most Poly folks, jealousy isn’t seen as the expected response to a situation (like seeing someone you love kiss someone else). Instead, it’s treated as a sign that there’s some kind of unmet need to reflect on and unpack, and you get to work it out and communicate about it. A lot of us think about it as check engine light. But there’s also this beautiful counterpoint to jealousy, and it’s called Compersion!

Compersion?: Compersion is the BEST! It’s really just...being happy because someone else is happy! In Poly, that might be the fact that you find yourself smiling when you see a cute moment between your partner and metamour, or see them getting excited for a date. It’s joyful and bubbly and sweet. It’s feeling your heart soar because you see your partner happy and in love. It can exist alongside jealousy— being happy that your partner and their date went to an awesome concert, even though you couldn’t afford a ticket yourself— or it can be so bright and lovely that it completely fills the space that society says should be taken up by jealousy. It makes me giddy to see my partners smooch their other partners, or make breakfast together. I grin when I see them holding hands. Sometimes a group of us are together doing something very normal like hiking...but we’re all grinning like idiots because the Compersion in hearing the mix of conversations and hand holding and flirtation is so infectious that we’re all filled with joy from it.

The thing is, we’re actually used to feeling Compersion in some societally accepted ways— when someone gets a new job, or is excited they’re having a baby, or gets engaged. One of the easiest things in the world is feeling happy for someone you love because they’re happy. And it’s kind of mind-blowing to have the realization that that’s true in romantic contexts as well.

Look- polyamory requires a lot of communication. It takes willingness to work out issues through communication. But a lot of the reasons we think ‘that could never work’ are reflexive judgements based on social constructs. Anyone who desires the benefits enough to put in the work of communicating can do Poly well, if they find it suits their needs. And when we look at fiction, characters who experience love for more than one character at a time can always be imagined in scenarios where that commitment is possible and can be achieved. There are so many valid ways those relationships can work.

And since I would always rather see my beloved characters end up happy than broken hearted, I’m always going to be intrigued by characters who figure out that Poly is an option, in fanworks or in canon. Maybe it’s not my endgame hope, maybe it is. Maybe both can be things I enjoy.

That doesn’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea.

But we should recognize that there are a lot of ways to arrange relationship in monogamous ways, as well as in polyamorous ones... and that Poly dynamics are often very different than monogamous one. So if someone says they’re sailing a poly ship for some characters... it’s probably not the S.S. Monogamy With Three People.

That ship is out there, but it’s only one of the many ships in the fleet.

And you have the option to tour a poly ship, or book passage on it, or stay aboard your own ship. Just...kindly don’t open your gun ports and fire off a volley because you don’t think the ship should be on the ocean if it’s flying a poly flag.

#roswell nm shipping #poly #polyamory #polyamory in fic #poly myths and misconceptions #always happy to share insights about people #who are curious or who are writing about it #rnm ship drama #ship drama #malexa

[dansnaturepictures]

27/05/2020-Dog rose on the bush out the front and Meadow Brown, daisies and more at Lakeside at lunch time 

On my way out for my daily walk at lunch time I checked the bush at the front of the house in bloom with big roses as I showed with a picture this time last week and others before. I had a closer look at it today as I was reminded that a year ago yesterday I took a picture of a dog rose on this bush one of my most memorable non-wildlife/landscape ones of 2019. I had seen these flowers over Lakeside on bushes on mass in recent weeks and sure enough I did spot some on the bush today. I took the first picture in this photoset of one of them. 

I then got to Lakeside and was happy to see so many of the big daisies adorning the meadows here as I have witnessed a lot lately there really are hundreds of them which is brilliant and I have particularly noticed a lot this year. I took the second and third pictures in this photoset of landscapes showing the daisies the third showing the steam railway station which I realised I’d never photographed here probably. Nice to flash back to what was my main use of Lakeside as a child in our family before my wildlife interest began I loved riding this train I was a little bit into trains a little as a kid especially the Thomas the tank engine characters some of which they have here. Whilst its been nice to walk where the tracks are and cross the track in a more relaxed way a bit on daily exercise walks during lockdown with the train not running I have missed seeing the train puff by when walking beside the track. 

The area I took the views from was beside a bit of grass habitat I discovered on a butterfly watching evening here late last June on a hot and sunny day, I have come to nickname it Ringlet meadow. You’ll know I call the area of grass in the south and east of the site Marbled White meadow as I see these butterflies here a lot and I called this little patch of grass I now love exploring Ringlet meadow as when I first discovered it as that’s what I saw my first Ringlet of 2019 a key target that night. When I watched what I first thought was a Speckled Wood something I had seen here this year already flying I realised it was not and thought for an extraordinary minute the place lived up to its name as it looked look a Ringlet just seeing a brown thing fly! I’ve seen people on social media say they have seen Ringlets already but as a late June into July butterfly traditionally for me it would be quite something. I then thought to myself the butterfly could very well be the slightly more plausible but pretty spectacular too Meadow Brown. It then darted off across the railway line into a patch of bright daisies. 

But I walked along there crossing the track myself and re-found it seeing one settle and it was a Meadow Brown. I took the fourth and final picture in this photoset a record shot of this my 24th butterfly species of 2020. This yet again is by far my earliest ever sighting of one in a year, just like Green Hairstreak for April when I saw my first this year just over a month ago at Magdalen Hill I have never seen a Meadow Brown in May before now. This continues to show that with a lot of butterfly watching I’ve done locally maybe a factor maybe the weather too my butterfly year’s timeline is a bit ahead of what it normally is. I am consistently noticing this as I tick off seeing Britain’s wonderful butterflies this year which is fascinating. This is one of my most important butterfly species to see and first see in a year especially as they are one I class as a summer butterfly. The first such I have seen its always a guessing game as to if it will be that or Large Skipper in a year. 

Alongside Foxgloves I’ve seen and photographed on certain woodland walks lately what I always see as my sign post to summer I have had two snippets of summer now. I definitely do not want to jinx it with this weather lately and how hot and sunny its been but that is just my observation of summer days are near. I have been rather used to more at other locations namely Martin Down the last two years to seeing Meadow Browns for the first time in a year on grey days or ones that are just not sunny the whole way through and as if by magic this afternoon it did cloud up a bit to make it a Meadow Brown day as such but is looking nice and sunny as I write this now I’m timing my posts to go out this week and the two following ones due to my natural history television reaction tweets on Dans_Pictures during Springwatch so I like to post the blog afterwards to throw back to the pictures I posted earlier in the evening and keep my content at the top of my profile as such.

It was nice when looking at it in the daisies to see the relatively similarly looking Small Heath a strong butterfly for me over the past month or so after seieng my first of 2020 including many sightings here which I don’t often get with so much time spent here notably this year. At one point the smaller Small Heath flew into the landed Meadow Brown and they battled a bit flying in the air. A rare chance to compare the two in real time as I find their seasons don’t quite overlap as much over the years. You’ve normally finished seeing the Small Heaths or at least the bulk of them at least a first brood by the time the Meadow Browns emerge in my experience. 

I then carried on through the Ringlet meadow ares and spotted another Meadow Brown in a slightly wooded bit. On the theme of woods I then found a path I’d never seen here before going through woods bringing me out to a second entrance from trees that I have noticed lately to the Marbled White meadow area where I aimed to end up today the south east of Lakeside. Always nice to find somewhere new in this place I’ve known for years. The Meadow Brown moment today was another uplifting and joyful moment for me to have during a lunch time walk. Its amazing how often Lakeside has featured on my year lists bird and butterfly and others in the location field now it really has served me incredibly well to keep me in touch with species I needed to see in my mission to see as much as I can for birds, butterflies etc. as ever each year and therefore keep me in touch with nature in a safe way doing my walks. This is a species I excepted to see here almost now based on previous years and was a moment I really looked forward to so today it did make me very happy. Like Chris Packham said about local walks and their benefits for mental health and connection to nature etc. in yesterday’s Springwatch programme being able to walk over Lakeside has saved me a bit even with slightly further afield trips doable with social distancing on weekends now. 

As I write this just like last Wednesday a Blue Tit is coming onto the feeders on our front balcony right beside me. A young one too I think. I haven’t yet managed a picture but if I do after I’ve logged off you can see it/them tomorrow either on here or just on my Twitter. I hope you’ve all had a good evening. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary at Lakeside: My first Meadow Brown butterfly of the year, Small Heath, a moth possibly another Mother Shipton but I didn’t get a chance for a picture really during a chase of the first Meadow Brown a little, Magpie, Woodpigeon, House Sparrow, Starling, Blackbird, Whitethroat again, Roe Deer in the same area as last Wednesday same one as I’ve been seeing the Whiethroats too I seem to happily do a similar route on the walk each Wednesday to attempt to have a lower yielding photo day as I have a phone call with my Dad each Wednesday for about half an hour due to not visiting him each week for two nights due to lockdown/working from home and a few more little moths and beetles.  

#whitethroat #meadow brown #roe deer #small heath #butterfly #butterflies #blue tit #wildlife #moment #summer #spring #photography #hampshire #lakeside #lakeside country park #england #eastleigh #uk #earth #nature #world #beautiful #wild #advanced #timeline #grass #daisy #dog rose #springwatch #daisies

[thesinglesjukebox]

CARLY RAE JEPSEN - WANT YOU IN MY ROOM

[7.80]

Give a [10]! or a [4]! We don't care! Anymore! (actually we clearly do care)

Josh Winters: The sound of the heart set aflame. [10]

Tobi Tella: Oh my god. The synths, the sultriness, that goddamn HOOK. Dedicated had a lot of great and fun, pop music, but this comes out of left field in the best possible way. It's one of the most direct and sexy things, she'd ever done. Is this what gay heaven feels like? [10]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Big "looks-up-grinning-like-the-devil" energy: when CRJ sings, "I wanna do bad things to you," the mischief is both inexplicably sweet and dirty. [8]

Michael Hong: "Want You In My Room" might be Carly Rae Jepsen at her horniest, but it's also Jack Antonoff at his least restrained, together making something that's thrillingly giddy. Carly Rae Jepsen drops some of those thinly disguised hints for more straight-forward temptations, coming across as intense where Dedicated erred more towards tepid. There's still room for coyness, with the distorted "want you in my room" bashfully buried in the mix and the way Jepsen's voice brazenly glides across the instrumental on the line "slide on through my window." But most importantly, "Want You In My Room" feels completely uninhibited and absolutely freeing as Carly Rae Jepsen delivers any line with as much of a wink as she desires. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: Pure joy. [9]

Edward Okulicz: Every song that goes by, I find myself enraged by how average I find the average Carly Rae Jepsen to be, and I'm not entirely sure that I'm not jealous of the euphoria she inspires in others. But honestly, she's no Vengaboys, let alone a Paul Lekakis; I believe Jepsen, but I don't buy her abandon. [4]

Alfred Soto: With Dedicated proving an ephemeral listen, "Want You in My Room" does a professional job as any discrete track at isolating her strengths: finding a hook for any title and singing as if any doggerel were Heidegger. The outro sax wipes the smear of the redundant vocoder, suggesting other paths that the arrangement avoids. [4]

Kylo Nocom: Given the runtime and production choices, one would think somebody had went out and decided to parody the style of Emotion with its Wikipedia article and five hours to complete the task. "Want You in My Room" slightly lacks sophistication in both songwriting and in aesthetic: it feels like half of the song is missing by the time the track decides to fade out, and the wonky percussion/clean guitars/fucking SAX are rather ungraceful signifiers of '80s kitschiness, as if hints were taken from Carly's turn with the Fuller House theme song. These tiny grievances immediately disappear once those robot-voices and shouts burst out, an exercise between restraint and shamelessness that's completely undeniable. I didn't register that the vocoded voices were actually saying anything the first few times I heard this, let alone the title, but it's quite sly how that turned out: the most explicit demand of the hook is obscured, leaving "I wanna do bad things to you!" which beats around the bush a tiny bit (thankfully, less embarrassingly than Camila) and additionally gleeful cheers before that lovely inquiry of "baby, don't you want me too?". I'm still frustrated this ends so quickly, but even this doesn't matter when it's the Carly song I've been using to soundtrack the crush-anxiety interludes of my life. Really, this could cut off after the first chorus and still be more exciting than nearly every other song on Dedicated. [8]

Joshua Lu: It's tempting to draw connections between Emotion and everything Carly Rae Jepsen has done since Emotion -- thematically, her work hasn't evolved much since 2015, with her primary concern being PG-13 depictions of love and heartbreak. But Emotion's portrayal of affection was grandiose and imposing, fit for blasting out the windows of your car as you get lost in the streets of LA, while Dedicated's take feels distinctly slighter and more intimate. "Want You In My Room" takes more of its cues from Kiss, if anything -- even overlooking the disco tinges and how that was the first time she worked with Jack Antonoff, Kiss employed intimate lyricism that could verge at times on the diaristic, with songs like "Turn Me Up" and "Curiosity." The song's title, conveyed through Antonoff's phalanx of robots, renders that closeness literally, but that intimacy comes through metaphorically as well, especially with that quintessentially Carly-esque grotesque lyric of "press you to the pages of my heart" and that absolutely filthy request to "slide on through my window." I'll always prefer this mode of Carly, whose depictions of carnal affection feel more genuine and evocative when she's cooing them in your ear instead of bellowing them to the world. Even the outro works for me; the music video helps to explicate that her lover has finally made it to her room, and the bleating saxophone becomes an aural metaphor of whatever the two of them are doing, now that the song has accomplished its purpose. [10]

Will Adams: The discourse around Jack Antonoff and his status as the supposed ingenue behind female pop stars' critical reappraisal is exhausting, mostly because it ignores my biggest gripe with it: the production is bad. As we've seen before, his penchant for vocoders sinks the songs and, in this case, the entire chorus. The rest is his typical beige, vaguely '80s, vaguely '90s, vaguely everything feel, as if those "Dreams" guitars haven't been done better elsewhere. Carly's not off the hook either, with lyrics as empty as "press you to the pages of my heart." The sax riffing at the end would have been nice had it not resulted in a fade-out, which only serves to let you know that no one involved bothered to write a bridge. [4]

Joshua Copperman: That post-chorus is peak Carly - her songs are best when they're anxious but sensual, innocent but winking. But that's the problem with this song, content to be an E*MO*TION throwback when the best cuts on Dedicated ("I'll Be Your Girl," "Everything He Needs") push her sound forward in ways that still remain consistent with her past. Antonoff's on autopilot, lifting his own Tom Petty rip from "Don't Take The Money" for his usual mix of 80s and non-80s signifiers. Singles Jukebox editor and writer Katherine St. Asaph's issue with Dedicated was that Carly didn't play to her fanbase enough. This goes too much in the other direction giving the gays exactly what they want but nothing more. That doesn't mean it's bad, but it's too slight when Carly's beloved for her maximalism. [6]

Andy Hutchins: Fun, frivolous, brisk, and brief in the way so many great pop songs are, and a better spiritual successor to "Africa" in 2019 than Weezer actually covering it. But I will admit that listening to the potential [3] or [15] that would have been CRJ riffing on Rye Rye's spin on Vengaboys was deeply distracting. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Want You In My Room" is the worst kind of song to write about: so self-evidently joyful and skilled in every aspect (those synths!! that sax solo!!) that it's hard to point at any one thing to analyze. Is it enough to just say that the song is the best execution of crush pop in the catalog of an artist who is the queen of crush pop? Is it enough to say that I listen to the song in the shower and my morning walk to class? Is it enough to say that this song (and really, the whole starting run of Dedicated) is an excellent soundtrack to a roadtrip with the one you love? I don't know, and I don't quite know how to express how good it is that Carly Rae Jepsen is around and making music like this, but I hope this helps. [10]

Jackie Powell: Carly Rae Jepsen knows her base just as well as she knows herself. All of the elements of "Want You in My Room" confirm that."...And I'll press you to the pages of my heart" in the pre-chorus proves how Jepsen simultaneously views love and her music. She loves fantasy and probably adores fanfiction (Does anyone have confirmation on this?) "I think I like when people look at music from a way that's this childlike magical thing that happens to us," she said at Electric Lady Studios recording her Spotify singles session. She has made it her brand for the nerds who love love--but struggle to capture it-- feel at home with the awkwardness and desire that they feel inside. Jack Antonoff knows how to extrapolate Jepsen's inner feelings and give them a sound; the track begins with three different percussive loops which symbolize the racing heartbeat of sexual and romantic excitement. The aforementioned Spotify session version of the cut further echoes the idea that this song is an orgy that would take place at a campfire for young adults. (I guess I just described Woodstock. Imagine Woodstock in 2019...oh wait.) She proves once again that both fantasy and desire are natural and shouldn't be a source of any shame. [8]

Vikram Joseph: There's probably not much that my 11-year-old self has in common with me right now. But I remember getting up an hour before school to listen to the radio, and the way that I would lose myself in pop music and it would carry me through the day, painting the cyclical banalities of breaktime and double chemistry in weird, vivid colours that I didn't fully understand back then. And it's not so different to the way that I respond to it now; the way that caffeine and Dedicated made my commute shimmer and glow on sticky mornings this summer. For me, "Want You In My Room" has been the album's febrile, halcyon peak from the start - a high-camp maximalist fantasia of love and lust, the rare ecstasy of uncomplicated desire played out in a technicolour dreamscape of synths, vocoders and sax solos. It took four months for it to acquire a music video, but there must have already been a million existing in our imaginations, us as the stars, cameras panning as we walk down streets as flamboyantly as our queer little hearts dare to. It's garish, sugary and barely sounds real, and that's fine - because great pop is escapist, always has been and always will be, and "Want You In My Room" makes me believe I can have it all (even if it's fake). [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Carly Rae Jepsen #pop #music #music review #writing

[fantroll-purgatory]

Hey, as someone who’s still going through the slow process of conceptualizing a bunch of Pride trolls, I can vibe with this guy! I’m going to put a big ol’ trigger warning up top here since I openly discuss issues of homophobia and transphobia in the review below. Please stay safe!

(tw: mentions of homophobia and transphobia)

Universe:Beforus

Hmmmm. If he’s Beforan, I might even say that his outfit is too conservative! While a sample size of 12 isn’t that big, what we’ve seen of Beforus is that trolls will take the aesthetic of a subculture and hit it HARD.

Name:Gaeiiy Ryggtz

Hah. Okay so this is obviously a fun name. If you wanna go a little bit more subtle, I would suggest Getran (gay/trans) Ynemak (backward surname of Frank Kameny, who was one of the first folks to file a claim against orientational discrimination in a U.S. court)

Age: 6.5 Sweeps

Theme: Colors and everything related to it,like rainbows or prisms

Got it! As I said before, Beforan trolls tend to have a specific subculture around which they’re based rather than a more nebulous theme, and based on the original name you gave him it’s pretty clear what that would be. That said, since the rainbow is for the entire LGBT community, I would consider possibly making your troll trans/nonbinary!

Goal and story: He is a mutant who likes being a mutant and would fight against the hemospectrum hierarchy and make every caste to be equal in power,for this, he must spread the love to make Beforus a beautiful place.

Quick note: the goal is for what you want us to do in our review! Since you haven’t specified, I am assuming that this is a general review of everything you’ve submitted.

Before I dig into the meat of the rest of your bio, I want to address this part, because based on what we’ve seen of Beforus, it does not broadcast its oppression as clearly as Alternia does. Where Alternia is an out-and-out fascist dictatorship, Beforus’s Condesce (if she is indeed called that) is an adult Feferi Peixes, whose views on the hemospectrum have more to do with coddling those who sit below you on the hemospectrum. How might your troll fight against that system?

If we want an example of how such a society might look in regards to gay and trans rights, let’s look at common criticisms of liberal politics with regards to the LGBT community, which includes support for trans people if(f) they “pass” completely as the “opposite” gender to their assigned one (a standard which is much stricter than for cis people), and support for same-gender attraction so long as it’s tucked away and isolated from straight society (a standard which can be further evidenced in biphobia towards multi-gender attracted people for “muddying” what should be clear-cut waters). All of this tied up with a biiiiig heaping of disdain for gender non-conforming people.

So how might we translate these norms to Beforus? Perhaps trans people are, once again, only accepted if they “pass” completely as the “opposite” gender to their assigned one, such that nonbinary people and trans people with a more complex understanding of their presentation are pushes either to stop identifying as trans/nb or to allow a better-versed highblood to “help” them fit into such gender norms.

Sexuality tends to be trickier since it’s stated (though not implied 🙄) that trolls are largely bisexual and preference for only one gender (though lbr it’s mostly for one’s own gender) is considered odd. I will get to that a little bit later in this review!

Strife Specibus: Flag Specibus,he uses a flag to fight.

Love it. 🏳️‍🌈

Fetch modus: Help, I have no ideas.

If he’s rainbow themed, how about a Colorblock Modus that captchalogues based on predominant color? Only problem is that whenever he wants to retrieve something the modus ejects *everything* of that color. I can also see it being weaponized in a fun way!

Blood Color: Rainbow =D

I still don’t really know how to *do* rainbow, since I feel like it would show up as sludge in his veins? What would it mean in terms of psychic abilities or resistances or strength or even his place in society? We assume that he wouldn’t be killed for being a mutant, but being a rainbowblood stretches the bounds of Beforan rules that if find difficult to incorporate into this review.

Based on the sign you gave him below, it looks like you wanted him to be a mutant limeblood, basically. Which works, but I also feel that that is a common choice when people want to justify their mutantbloods to us, if only because Karkat and Kankri are our obvious examples.

So here’s where I wanted to get back to the same-gender attraction thing, because I think it plays well into how to make this choice.

You say you want a mutant, you say you want someone who works toward justice, and you say you want a gay man.

We can do all of that if you’d allow me to make him a jade/teal cuspblood.

Teals are very strongly about justice, and it fits well for his theme as someone who is working to make Beforus a more inclusive place across the spectrum.

Jades are also a good pick since they’re associated with rainbowdrinkers, which gets you a stone’s throw from this blood color. THey are also heavily heavily coded as gay-equivalent, especially when we consider the Friendsim info that jadebloods are forbidden from pailing by tradition on Alternia, which is pretty obviously a direct parallel to gay marriage. Given that we’re on Beforus, it’s likely that such pailing is accepted, but even in today’s society we can see that the right to marry is often brandished as a sign that we’ve “won” and no longer need to fight for our rights.

As a cuspblood, where does that leave your troll? Where does he fit within the codified hierarchy of Beforus?

Symbol and meaning: Canpio, sign of the effervescent.

…This is a first, but I’m not sure I agree with any of the three things you combined to get your sign! Firstly, I did change his blood color, so that’s on me. Secondly, as someone who’s trying to change the hemospectral hierarchy, he’d be a Dersite for sure. Finally, I don’t know that he’s a Light player? I think I see where you’re coming from since his theme was rainbows and prisms, but you haven’t built a character particularly hellbent on collecting information.

That said, I don’t particularly want him to be a Blood player, lest he become dangerously Karkaty. So how about we invert the difference and see how he fits as a Breath player? Someone who pursues his own individual freedom, but incidentally gives others the strength to move forward as a consequence?

If we go with that, he’d fall somewhere between Libun, Sign of the Escapist, and Virun, Sign of the Eager. Vlibrun, Sign of the Eagcapier no wait that doesn’t sound great.

Trolltag: chromaticJusticer

Tips the hand a little too readily, in my personal onion. May I suggest prismBreak [PB], like prison break, both in terms of destroying the hemospectrum and it terms of freedom from the unjust?

Quirk: wr1te2 1n ^ll 12 c^2te2 ^nd u2e2 pr12m2, ^l2o nub2 (=B.

That is a lot! But then again TEREZ1 PYROPE SUR3 4S H3LL EXISTS so who am I to judge. That said I’m finding the quirk a little bit hard to read, so if I may suggest it be A Lot in a different way:

WR1TE2 1N △LL C△P2 △ND U2E2 PR12M2 TO CONVEY HI2 MULT1CHROM△TIC 2PLENDOR

The introduction of caps and the change of the carat to a triangle makes it harder for the eye to skip over the quirk when it appears.

Special Abilities: I was thinking of him having the abilities of all castes while still looking like a canon mutant (Karkat or Kankri) but I don’t know if this would be a lot.

I think it would indeed be a lot, and you would have to figure out how such a being would change things in Beforus! Beforus is still based on a fairly rigid caste system, and they wouldn’t see a rainbowblood and think “oh shit let’s just let this dude be in charge of everything!” He would be coddled by his “superiors!” How do you think your supposedly peaceful troll would get out from under that thumb while maintaining his pacifist leanings?

Lusus: I don’t know what kind of Lusus would fit him,but it’s also rare for mutants to get chosen by one,so I can stick with him being Lususless.

Sure! I will say that if he’s a jadeblood cusp he could possibly just like. Grow up in the caverns with some lusii that haven’t picked grubs.

Interests: Gaeiiy likes to experiment with lights while he isn’t fighting highbloods,he collects prisms and has a big collection of LEDs,lasers, flashlights and other things that emit lights.

Personality: He is the center of the universe and others find him interesting and kind,he is full of joy and cheerfulness,he is also peaceful and it’s hard to make him cry or make him mad.

So why, then, is he fighting for anything? His soul is not at unrest. Perhaps this speaks to a personal failing, but I find it deeply difficult to fight for things that don’t upset me on some level. I also don’t quite understand the “center of the universe” thing – are other trolls content to let him do as he please? Again, why is he fighting if he faces no opposition?

If you wanted to swing this in one direction, it could be that he’s so unplugged from the real-world oppressions thrust upon other jadebloods (thanks in part to his tealblood status) that he is complacent. This would definitely make him likable! He’s like, a jade, but not one of those jade jades. He’s actually cool about it and stuff. And while such an attitude may cost him the friendship of fellow jadebloods, who needs ‘em? Look at all the friends he has! He’s colorblind, he doesn’t see blood, he doesn’t understand why people want to rock the boat. (Note: if you take this tack then you may need to change a whole lot more about the character because this is no longer someone who is interested in fighting the status quo! That version of your troll would be a Prospitan for sure.)

On the other hand, how can we take someone joyful and likable and give them reason to fight highbloods? Well, they could be someone who joyfully fights highbloods when they try to stomp them down! There are some revolutionaries who might like that very, very much! And while it’s true that he’d need to feel very strongly about the cause to fight someone, it doesn’t have to be the driving force behind his actions! He can fight highbloods because he loves having his own independence, away from coddling bluebloods who think they know what’s best for him! And this makes him likable because people are inspired by his gumption and his brazenness in flaunting the rules!

Lunar Sway: Prospit.

Like I said above, I have reasons to believe he’s Derse unless you think he’s okay with the current system.

Title: ??????? Of Light?,but I also get some heart vibes from him.

And as above, I think he’s actually a Breath player! If I had to guess, he might be a Knight of Breath, fi you want to write an arc for him where he initially *doesn’t* want to rock the boat to take his freedom, but eventually grows into it.

Land: Land of LEDs and Storms.

A land full of Christmas like decorations and full of clouds that are telling you to give up on your quest,but Gaeiiy knows that even being stroke by a ray won’t stop him from ascending.

This one doesn’t need to change the name even if your Aspect does, since Storms can absolutely be a Breath thing. I do wonder what his quest would be, though…maybe he needs to part the clouds just enough that Skaia can reflect a rainbow against the torrent? It doesn’t necessarily mean your troll needs to *do* the quest; it just needs to be there.

Let’s get to this young man’s redesign. As always, we’re going top to bottom!

The most important design note I went into this redesign with was “LGBT solidarity,” which meant trying to hit that very fun “plausible deniability” look where strangers can ascertain that you’re *some* type of LGBT but have no real way of telling exactly which of those letters apply?

Horns - I edited these from Equius’s robot horns because there are some headcanons that these represent the “ideal” troll horns. I added a hook at the end of the rear horn for that signature jadeblood flavor! Also I added a piercing to the right horn similar to how gay men in the 90s/00s had one in the right ear to signify their gayness. (Which was fun because I was googling “which ear is the gay ear” like I was in 7th grade again lol).

Baseball cap - This one is adapted from @emspritesblog, which is unfortunately kind of dead now. I liked the fact that you had a rainbow on his shirt and I wanted to pay tribute to it somehow, so I added it to the back of the baseball cap using the blood colors closest to those of the original Pride flag!

Hair - I used a template from @fantrollartroom and made it curlier, because the asymmetrical undercut is like *the* look as far as I know.

Eyes - I wanted to nod back to the fact that you wanted a Karkat-adjacent design, so I edited his eyes for your troll.

Mouth - …and the mouth. But I added some fangs for that jadebloodyness

Binder/tank and symbol - I took the jade and teal symbols I suggested and tried to smoosh ‘em together a little bit! 

Flannel - ahhhh the flannel of plausible deniability. I made is a jade/teal gradient to emphasize the cuspiness. It’s Vriska’s jacket but with all the colors swapped out.

Overall outfit - I use @fan-troll sprites quite liberally to make coherent outfits, and cannot recommend the sprite sheet enough! Since the clothing doesn’t *quite* fit a standard sprite it kind of forces you to learn some spriting as you go, which is a pretty good way to get incrementally better over time.

That concludes my review of young Gay Rights [sic]! I hope my suggestions were helpful, and thank you very much for sharing him!

-TR

#t3o-ya1r-th4-noble #gaiiey ryggtz #gaaiey #ryggtz #mutantblood #review #redesign #tr review #submission #getran ynemak #getran #ynemak #cuspblood #tealblood #jadeblood

[not-poignant]

(this might be a bit personal, and by all means please don't feel pressured to answer) but considering how dark some of your stuff can get, have you ever been troubled by some of the characters/their actions in your stories (and semi-related) had to take some time to cope with writing a difficult scene?

This is a tough one so I’m going to put a lot of it under a read more (sorry phone browsers).

I’ve had the occasional moment of struggling with content because of being troubled by it.

But by contrast it’s funny because, I think some of the most difficult scenes for others, are actually some of the easiest for me to write. For example, the chapter where Connor is basically kidnapped by Gabriel and given the highball, was so easy to write it was like swimming (which is the only sports-like skill I’m good at). If everything could be like that, oh my goodness, I can’t even imagine. It was an intense, emotionally fraught, joyful experience of the likes I don’t know how to explain to other people who don’t experience that.

So there’s not always any rhyme or reason to it either. I struggled with significant chunks of Strange Sights. I couldn’t finish The Drawn Bead because it just felt like we were heading towards torture porn but I also knew I couldn’t do justice to the horror of Gwyn’s memory AND it has a tragic ending and I struggle to write those for longer pieces. I tend to struggle with characters being separated from each other. So the beginning of Into Shadows We Fall, when Jack and Pitch are completely separated from each other, that was so difficult for me personally, that I actually ended up massively shortening how long they were meant to be separated for. Even though Pitch and Jack have a really thorny relationship when Pitch is returned, I still preferred that to their being absent from each other.

But I didn’t have as much of a problem with it, when it was Gwyn and Augus.

It’s not predictable, sometimes I enjoy writing the troubling content on a very visceral level. Either because I feel like I’m in my element as a writer. Or I know it’s going to be so satisfying (for me) for the character to recover from it later. Or I know that it’s going to lead to something I’ve been craving writing. I mean I wouldn’t write so much of that kind of content if I didn’t get something really tangible out of it.

There are still things that surprise me, still scenes that become more difficult as I write them, not because of ‘technical writing reasons’ but because of the thematic content. Often, for me, it highlights things I probably won’t enjoy writing again. Strange Sights for me worked as a series of oneshots, but as a long-term abusive and rape-filled relationship, it didn’t actually become comfortable for me until Augus began to be allowed to have boundaries. So I probably won’t write a couple that toxic ever again outside of novellas and PWPs. With the beginning of Into Shadows We Fall, I learned I had to be really careful with character separation, and that three chapters was about my limit (from memory, I think I stuck to this - or just about - in COFT).

But...maybe it would make people feel better if I said I really struggled with writing Gavril taunting Jack. Or Jack being whipped by Bunnymund. Or Augus torturing him in chapter 4 of ISWF. Or Gwyn being tormented by his mother. Or Mosk having flashbacks of Davix and Olphix. I find them intense, sure, but I don’t dislike doing it. Even though I often really feel for the character who is experiencing the torment. Gwyn goes through a fairly graphic description an MRI the next chapter in SOTS, and though I myself actually had an MRI phobia for a few years (it was the reason I developed claustrophobia), I found the scene itself disturbing, but deeply satisfying enough that I wouldn’t call it something where I needed to take time out to cope.

As for me being troubled by how the characters are actually behaving... This is tricky. I mean of course a lot of them are doing stupid, terrible, harmful, cruel, illegal things. I don’t condone it in reality. But thinking of these things happening in fiction is different to thinking about them happening in reality. The fact is, ‘dubcon’ in reality is just rape, and if I applied real world standards to non-real scenarios filled with tropes and the Id, yeah sure, I would be troubled, but I’d also not be writing any of this content.

As an addendum to that, for me their behaviour always makes sense to me from their perspective. Whether it’s Mosk being emotionally abusive with no concept of it. Gwyn raping Augus. Augus killing Efnisien. Pitch in TGATNW being heartless and constantly pushing Jack away with very cruel behaviour. Even Davix and Olphix. Whatever their behaviour is, if I can understand their motives behind it, I tend to struggle with it a lot less.

I don’t like to squick myself with my own writing, as a general rule. So no, I’m not looking to write things where I need to take breaks from my own writing to cope. But I think to be blunt, my life is filled with things more challenging than what I put a lot of my characters through, and my emotional ability to handle disturbing behaviour is broader than I think it would be for some other people. It doesn’t mean I lack empathy or compassion, if anything I hope that through my writing, people can see that I have great compassion for the characters that often suffer the most, through my need to build up a chosen/found family around them, and pour love onto them, even if they don’t know what to do with it.

Those that are here in the pit of ‘enjoying Pia’s writing’ are probably here because the comfort when it comes is - I hope - tangible and visceral, the loneliness when it’s comforted away reaches past the screen and means something. And holding onto that thread myself is why I enjoy the hurt part of the hurt/comfort as much as the comfort part, but also why I don’t like to write one without the other.

And finally, most of my POV characters, by the time we get to them, have been through their darkest moments in their pasts. The only way we often access their worst moments is through flashbacks, memories, dialogue or their aversions. That might feel very extreme to some, but for me, it means by the time we get to them, they’re already starting to recover something for themselves. The worst has happened.

Even if they go through something during the story, say - Connor in Eversion with Gabriel - I just think ‘it’s okay, they’re already in the story, their support is there, they’re going to be okay.’ It’s...extremely rare for me to write stories where the character goes through their worst trauma within the story. Science of Fear is an exception to that, but as most people know if they’ve read it - Nathan blacks out early on, and then once more, we only find out the details of his worst trauma in the form of nightmares, flashbacks and dialogue.

That’s partly because I feel personally that I write trauma recovery stories, and not trauma stories (it doesn’t sound like a huge difference, but to me it’s a huge difference). And then secondly because there is a buffer through the trauma itself being in the form of a memory. That...makes it a lot easier for me to cope with. I’ve spent my entire life learning how to cope with flashbacks, after all. But also, even if the character is clearly destroyed by a flashback, the fact is, they survived it. The flashback is living proof they survived it.

But anyway, I’d say me taking breaks from my own writing because of disturbing content specifically doesn’t really happen anymore and I can’t remember the last time it did. I take breaks because I’m struggling with a chapter - i.e. how to write it mechanically, or because I feel like it doesn’t have the emotional strength I want it to have yet. I am actually very comfortable with many of the themes I write, I’d have a far squickier, grosser, harder time writing pregnancy, or a story filled with only fluff, which is y’know, why...I don’t really write those things, lol. I’m too much of a hedonist to want to write content that scared me away from my own content? Like, you do you, folks, but I’m going to be over here actually enjoying what I write, disturbing matter and all.

That doesn’t mean other people can’t have a hard time with it. It’s totally okay for people to take breaks from whatever they read, for whatever reason. And since a lot of the characters I write do engage in troubling behaviour, it wouldn’t be great if people said ‘that behaviour is okay to do in real life’ because it isn’t. But if someone said ‘god I love that villain because he’s awful’ then yeah, I’m right there with pom poms, because that’s my jam too. And if someone else said ‘I can’t stand that villain because he’s awful’ then yeah, that’s awesome as well.

And if people need to take breaks while reading what I’m writing because they’re engaging in self-care, then good! I’ve needed to do the same with other people’s writing. Because the journey of the reader is different to the journey of the writer (this is for me, truest when writing porn, lmao, I’m not turning myself on when I write those scenes, but I sure as hell hope I’m turning on at least some readers --> so if I’m not walking away from the disturbing content in my own writing, that doesn’t mean I’m not hoping people won’t be disturbed when reading it).

#asks and answers #personal #pia on writing #pia on fanfiction #i feel like someone else could've summed this up in three sentences #instead of like two thousand words #but here we are #with the rambling fool of 2019 #administrator Gwyn wants this in the queue #Anonymous

[hxlfsoul-a]

If you’re a fan of Christmas, then maybe think of giving this a read! With a bunch of events - both mini events and main ones - it’s definitely time we all get into the Christmas spirit, don’t you think?

So, if you’re really up for some Christmas fun, come join this Christmas event for the entire BNHA RPC!

FAQ (Frequently asked questions)

Q: What tags should I be following for the event? A: The tags are BNHAChristmasUpdate (for the event posts - this is for me to use to keep track of main event posts, don’t tag any roleplay posts with it!) and BNHAChriSMASH (the rp tag for all roleplays pertaining to the event!)

Q: When is it happening? A: The first mini event will be posted on November 11th 2018! Mini events will last two days each and main events will last four days each - it’ll be ending on December 18th 2018, being the last day that events will take place.

Q: How many events will there be? A: There will be 11 mini events and 4 main events. Anyone who would like the exact days/timeframe for each event is free to message me - I won’t be revealing what the events are, however. Just know we’re ending it with Christmas day!

Q: Can my muse participate without being a U.A student? A: Yes! Event posts - for the most part - are targeted at a wide range of muses. From students to teachers to parents and pro heroes - even villain muses will be able to participate! I mean, if villains even celebrate Christmas. (do they?)

Q: How do I participate? A: Follow the tags at the top of the FAQ section, first of all. Then, like/reblog this post (optional, of course, but it’ll be nice to know who’s going to be participating). Please note if you’re participating and don’t want non-mutuals interacting, it’s recommended to tag any and all posts with “mutuals only”! This is so you can be comfortable during the event.

Other than that, just post in character rp things for each event under the BNHAChriSMASH tag and so on, and make sure to respond to the posts of others too, of course! You do NOT need to be following me.

Q: Any other information? A: Just the usual - if you don’t like someone participating or their muse, please just don’t interact with them. I want everyone to be able to feel safe participating, no matter whether their muse is loved or hated by the fandom, really. Please don’t start drama, don’t tag anything sexual with the event tag (that should go without saying, though). This event is also duplicates friendly!

Q: How will the secret santa part of it work? A: Your muse will come up with something they want for Christmas and they’ll all be sorted into a random generator - then, the list will be announced with (or separately from) the next event. So basically: it’s an in character thing, you do not need to do art/writing for other mun’s n stuff, alright?

(Before I get into the backstory (sort of) part of this, I’d like to thank @quirkdysfunction for letting me bounce ideas off them and helping me confirm the event content and time frame!)

The Backstory!

A time of magical days, of wonder and snow, of log burned fires and the warmth of an embrace - of gentle touches and the softest laughter, carefully crafted decorations too, make their home in this time. As do the smiles of all those around, adults, teens and children alike.

Of course, something so normal and joyful is rare - and it isn’t in the stars this year, either. With a string of odd, but enjoyable, occurrences leading up to the U.A Christmas Party, it’s sure to be the best Christmas that anyone has ever had, isn’t it?

From a baking competition to Secret Santa, this year, Christmas is going to be exciting - but, that’s understandable. After all, Plus Ultra, Go Beyond - right?

#event; α ∂αу тσ яємємвєя #BNHAChristmasUpdate #BNHAChriSMASH #// hopefully managed before anyone else made one? #// been working on this for a month or so now

[jaineym]

Melody

Prompt: You can’t hear the sound of a melodic piano until a certain incident in a busy cafe involving a grumpy middle aged man and two young adults at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 1344

Note: yeah I didn’t edit this one either lmao

PSA!! Min Yoongi + piano = good content

Love was cruel to you; to everyone who hadn’t found it. It worked in such weird ways, keeping something from your sight, sound, touch, taste or even smell that you and your destined significant other would revel over together; something that made you complete each other. Your friend Jungkook couldn’t hear anything whenever he’d entire a singing booth which stopped him from making music totally, another friend not being able to smell Korean food until he met his significant other, but Seokjin was a rare case; smell and taste usually aren’t missing.

You on the other hand had one of the common ones: sound. It didn’t take you long to notice that you couldn’t hear anything emit from a piano; your mother and father weren’t able to see the keys of a piano, the two of them now being successful pianists which inevitably meant that you had several in your house. When you asked your mother why you’d have to play something that made no noise after your first piano lesson as a five-year-old, she’d figured that you were destined to love the piano just as much as she did, which made the both of your parents feel extremely close to you.

It made you feel distanced from them.

They would always talk to you gleefully about how joyful the piano is to hear and to play and just how much you’d love it on the fateful day in which you meet eyes with your significant other, but every time they mentioned it, you felt even more down that you were missing some amazing piece of life for the past twenty two years. You envied how they’d sit at the piano together, their fingers gliding over the keys together to create a melody that didn’t exist to your ears.

After your university class you made your way to the local library. You came here often, reading every book that mentioned anything to do with pianos, fiction or non-fiction, you didn’t care; you craved as much knowledge you could get from the instrument that’s said to sound so graceful and sophisticated to the ears, mind and soul.

Your fingers gently brushed against the spines of the books, looking for yet another book to fuel the fire in your heart; to make you crave the sound of the instrument even more. Your eyes focused on a non-fiction book called ‘Piano Notes: The Hidden World of the Pianist’, your fingers delicately pulling it out of the comfortable spot between two other books in which it previously sat.

The book spoke about the delights and demands of the piano, those of which you could barely understand due to your lack of hearing the instrument. Nonetheless, you decided to borrow it, makings your way to the large café nearby to read it as you had some coffee.

You checked your phone, realizing that it was right before the lunchtime rush, quickly making your way to the line in the café, only three people before you. After a short wait, you made your order before shuffling to the right to wait for it. While you stood in the waiting area, the previously small line formed into a big bustling one, people on their break from work and those just seeking some lunch and drinks soon filling the popular shop to the brim.

“Order for y/n,” the barista called as you took the coffee with a smile and small thank you, turning around quickly to find a seat in the crowded store.

“Order for Yoongi,” another barista yelled over the crowd as you still struggled to escape the large crowd waiting for their order.

“Hey, I ordered before him!” a middle-aged man dressed in formal attire yelled from the front of the line, “This is unfair!”

“Sorry sir, but his order was a lot smaller than yours,” the barista tried to reason with him.

“Then you should’ve made it a priority,” the man yelled, anger coursing through his veins, “I don’t have time for this, I have places to be unlike that dead-beat kid that just skipped the fucking line.”

The man shoved his way to the back of the line, bumping you on the way, your coffee spilling over the white shirt you wore and, more unfortunately, the book you held in your other hand.

“Menstruation does a lot to a middle-aged woman,” a deep voice mumbled beside you, “Are you okay? Did he spill your drink?”

“Yeah, got some on my book,” You eyed your borrowed book, sighing as you realized that you’d have to pay for it, “It’s from the library so I’ll have to go pay for damaging it.”

“Hey, at least you get a book about Pianos from it, pianos are one of the greatest instruments apparently,” he mused, and you saw him reach for his wallet in your peripheral vision, “I’ll give you twenty, my order was why he got mad in the first place.”

“He got mad because he’s an impatient old man,” you laughed, politely rejecting the money, “if I wanted someone to pay for it, it’d be the grumpy old man who shoved me, not the ‘dead-beat kid’ who just wanted a drink.”

A soft laugh sounded from the young man beside you, your eyes following the sound to his gummy smile before you, “although that’s a nice nickname, my real name is Yoongi.”

“I’m y/n,” you smiled at him, your eyes hesitantly looking up to his eyes, his deep brown gaze meeting your own.

“Well, I’m sorry again for the spillage, and-“ Yoongi’s voice fell silent mid-sentence, causing you to stare at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Why you-

“Be quiet for a moment” he cut you off, “listen to the music playing.”

“What’s the noise playing?” you questioned to the unfamiliar music that quietly sung over the many people talking throughout the café.

His eyes met your gaze once again as his eyes widened to the size of saucers, “Piano.”

“Piano?” your face matched his shocked one, “you can’t hear piano either?”

“I couldn’t until just a few seconds ago,” he spoke, your coffee dropping from your hand as he firmly grasped it, pulling you out of the shop quickly, your coffee on your shirt, book and now all over the café floor.

You didn’t mind though, not when your destined lover ran, his soft hand firmly holding yours as he made his way into a different shop. It was a music store, filled to the brim with guitars, drums, brass instruments, violins, anything you could think of. The thing he led you to though, was the grand piano that sat elegantly in the middle of the store.

He sat down on the left side of the stool before it, patting the spot beside him. You sat down slowly, your finger finding the keys instantly, pressing them down to actually hear something back.

“Oh my god, I can hear it,” Yoongi mumbled, “I’ve been playing the instrument for so long without any noise and I can hear it.”

“You played the piano when you couldn’t hear it?” you questioned, eyes looking towards him in shock as he placed his fingers delicately on the keys.

“Call it wishful thinking or just good planning, but I knew that me and my destined lover would love it, so I wanted the first time we’d hear it together to be special,” he smiled up at you, “can I play for you?”

You nodded, watching as his fingers played the instrument with such skill, the notes sounding like a symphony of songs that you’d never had the pleasure to love before, it sounded like a gift from the gods and you never wanted to stop listening to him play the beautiful music.

He went through the entire song, his and your eyes filled with an unimaginable amount of passion and love as you made eye contact again.

Over the many years you were to spend together, the two of you made and learned many songs on the piano together, but your favourite melody was him.

#yoongi #min yoongi #Yoongi fluff #Yoongi fanfic #Yoongi fanfiction #bts #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts angst #Yoongi scenarios #bts scenarios #bts x reader #Yoongi x reader #Yoongi angst #bts smut #Yoongi smut #Namjoon fluff #Seokjin fluff #hoseok fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #jungkook fluff #kpop #suga #bts suga #suga fluff #suga fanfic #suga scenarios